The Decision
by Starfield
Summary: All Augustus Holiday wanted was some stress relief, but his decision to go bowling prior to a brewing wind storm will yield more than he will have ever bargained for. Gus has made a life changing decision that he must now adjust to. What happens when his family finds out?
1. One Fateful Night

The Decision

Author's Note: Nope, I don't claim the various musical artist' lyric clips I will be using to set the mood of each chapter; nor do I own Hanna Barbarra's 1972 long lost classic, "The Roman Holidays", which unsuccessfully attempted to capture audiences as their predecessors, the Flintstones and Jetsons; in fact, all I have to go on is an episode guide, audio recordings of their thirteen episodes and a youtube clip of the opening credits. Because of possible inaccuracies or vague physical description of the characters, any feedback is welcome. Please be kind when reviewing, as I am doing my best with what I have. I just wanted to see if I could give writing for this cartoon a go. This story is also dedicated to a dear friend of mine from my church who passed away recently; rest in peace, Ralph and live happily with God forever! Please enjoy this adventure of a modern day family in ancient Rome circa 64 AD (roughly a year after the cartoon was to take place), where togas are in style; lions are kept as pets; and the family car is a chariot.

Chapter 1 – One Fateful Night

"When clouds brought rain and disaster came" – Never Let Go by David Crowder Band

"I've had it, Gus!" Laurel Holiday, affectionately known as Laurie, snapped as she rose from her place on the couch and cast steely daggers her husband's way, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "I know you don't like the new guys at the quarry; I know how hard it is for you to watch all your friends getting promoted or transferred away; and nobody wants to be unappreciated by their boss; but you're going to have to stop wallowing in this funk and stop taking out your frustrations at work on us at home! Lately, you've been acting like a dead, burned out shell of a man and not the Gus Holiday we know and love. Maybe you should start taking the long way home so you can burn off some of your anger and frustration before you come through that door and start grumping at your family.

"You think it's that easy?" Augustus "Gus" Holiday shot back, clearly under the impression that his wife just didn't get it. He, a proud man whose head was adorned with a laurel wreath for service in the Roman Army, was wont to believe that if he was not able to provide for his wife and two children, he had no purpose in life and should therefore be dispatched to the afterlife. Anything was better than failing his dependents! "When we got married, I promised I would take good care of you and our kids, something I'm obviously not doing very well! I'm working with guys half my age and having to support a family of four and a ravenous lion on the same money they make. Of course, they have it easier because they only have to worry about themselves or become roommates and split the cost between them. If I hear one more of those snot nosed little squirts fresh out of their mommy's homes asking me why I haven't moved you and the kids into a house by now, I'm going to slam my head into the side of the quarry!" This last fiery statement was punctuated by Gus's thrusting his right fist into his left hand.

"But we have a roof over our heads and clean togas on our backs. The children aren't going to bed hungry at night. We don't need a house for you to be able to provide for us; besides, owning a house can be a headache: repairs, property taxes, landscaping …." Laurie ran two fingers of her right hand along her soft, red hair that was pulled loosely back in a bun.

"And no worries about the landlord wanting to kick us out on a whim; we would be able to keep Brutus without additional rental fees or yet more excuses for Evictus to evict us; there'd be a yard for Precocia to play in; Happy can practice his drums any time he wants; the two of us can grow old together on our own back porch and look forward to our mortgage burning party; and I'll know I've given you and the kids everything you need and deserve." The dissatisfied construction worker remained firmly entrenched in his beliefs that being a successful family man meant providing material wealth for his family as many of his fellow Romans had done, seemingly with little to no effort. How could he feel as if he was doing as he was called to do when his peers bragged up a storm while he would fudge his apparently pathetic life to save face among them?

"So you've made yourself bad company because you're going through an 'I'm fed up with apartment life' phase?" Laurie queried as she turned for a moment and took a sip from the glass of ice water she left on the coffee table.

"It's not just the apartment; how are we going to put the kids through college; how are we going to keep our heads above water when prices go up faster than my wages? I've lost count of all the temporary jobs I've had to take to keep us out of the red!" Gus began to pace the living room floor, his hands gesticulating almost as quickly as the words flowed from his lips. "The only way I can pull off supporting us is if I A) re-home Brutus to a relative who can afford him, which would upset the kids; B) go back to Ignasius' restaurant and take that dishwashing job on a permanent basis, which would mean all of you would see a whole lot less of me since I'd have to eat my dinner there and only come home long enough to sleep; or C) get a promotion complete with nice fat raise, but getting that raise won't happen any time soon. If I'd have been able to finish college, I'd have been the man you deserve to have."

"Dropping out wasn't your fault, honey. You couldn't help not finishing college. Your father was called into battle and fell by the sword, and you had to join the Roman Army and do what you could to support the family until your brother was able to step up and take care of your mother. And let me tell you something, if I wanted a college man, I would have fallen in love with one. I fell in love with you, not with the job you were doing, not with the money you made, but with a man who was honest and knew how to make me feel loved and safe around him. When I first went out with you, I just knew that you were the one I would spend the rest of my life with. I don't care if we have to live in a tent, just as long as we're together."

"You're saying that now, but will you still feel the same way if we really did have to live in a tent and eat off tin camping dishes and sleep in sleeping bags on the ground? You do know if Evictus keeps raising the rent or looking for every excuse he can to toss us out, we might have to do that someday."

"Oh stop borrowing trouble."

"Who's borrowing trouble? You know how unreasonable that jerk can be. I remember how he tried to kick us out of here because Brutus pined all night and day over that female lion from the zoo. How about when we had to find a prom date for his daughter to keep from being evicted because of what Brutus did with the wet cement? Let's not forget how he went to great lengths to make us look like noisy tenants with that hypersensitive noise meter he set up aimed at our window. And don't forget how he refused to renew our lease when we were both entered in the Father of the Year contest; he tore up the lease before they found out the contest ended up in a tie, and I had to paste the thing back together again."

"All of those situations worked out for the best, and we didn't lose the apartment."

"Don't you get sick of always having to worry about if or even when we'd not have a roof over our heads? I know Precocia's even got an empty suitcase ready to pack in her closet just in case we're out on our butts. I'm telling you, Laurie, if I could be a better provider, I'd have us safe and secure, where you and the kids wouldn't ever have to worry about losing food or shelter, and can, maybe just maybe, have a nice resort vacation without going into deep debt to get it. What does it tell you when I can't give you all that at forty-three? Women have no idea how embarrassing it is to want with every fiber of your being to provide a good life for a family; and I don't mean just getting by. I mean giving them what they'd love to have on top of just what they need. You'd think Tycoonius would have promoted me to a better paying job, but no! Aww, who cares, I should have gotten used to this by now; it's just my lot in life to be stuck in that dead end job." As Gus raved in self pity, Laurie rolled her eyes, for she knew that the most stubborn male ego was dictating her partner's mood in a negative way, so much so that she was wont to believe his blood pressure would be normal if he would just toss his pride aside.

"Oh for pity's sake, none of us are complaining, and you're doing a perfectly fine job supporting this family! Maybe we're not rich or ever hope to be, but we're happy and healthy, Gus. The only one who seems dissatisfied is you, and it's only since those new men started working at the construction company. Don't let them make you feel like less of a man because you're not supporting us according to their expectations." Laurie knew that her husband was truly stressed to the point where he was at the end of his string and only a relaxing activity would make him decent enough company at bedtime. "Look, dear, you might want to bowl a game or two and get some of this out of your system before you come to bed tonight; otherwise, if you're going to stay in this mood, you can take your pillow and an extra blanket and sleep in here. Your sullen state is bringing the rest of us down, and is that any way for a father to behave with his family?"

"Maybe you're right, honey, I suddenly feel the urge to knock over some pins." The patriarch drew a heavy sigh as he retrieved his bowling ball and cloak from the hall closet and kissed his wife good-bye. Maybe he couldn't be the provider he wanted to be, a problem that plagued him on a regular basis lately; however, he could at least take some short term pleasure in a physical activity at which he had proven to excel. "Don't wait up for me; I might bowl more than just one or two games."

"Drive carefully; the weather forecast said the winds are going to pick up tonight; they even think we're in for a bad wind storm."

"If we are, I'm sure they'll close the bowling alley early and send us home before the major winds have a chance to kick up. Bye, honey." With that, he swung open the front door and disappeared in search of some badly needed stress relief.

As the hours passed and the howling winds swept their wrathful hand over the city of Rome, Laurie was consumed by a dreadful feeling that something had gone terribly wrong, and Brutus, the family lion's whimpering and pacing through the apartment was no help what so ever. When the storm had knocked out power along most of the neighborhood, she, thankful that the phone lines were still working, contacted the bowling alley, only to hear from the proprietor that he sent everyone to the high school and was closing down because the predicted winds were thought to be strong enough to knock a man from his chariot. The high school was a designated storm shelter, and all the patrons of the bowling alley were instructed to go there and phone home to let their families know they were safe. No sooner did Laurie fix herself some coffee to settle her nerves when the phone's jangling bells lanced the constant howling of the winds whose ruthless wrath would be no match for a mother lioness that was robbed of her cubs!

"Gus, are you …" her words were cut off by a friendly voice that was not that of her spouse.

"Mrs. Holiday, it's Herman, Groovia's father, I'm calling from the high school …" The gentleman cut himself off in mid sentence when he came to the realization that the slender red-head was expecting to have heard the reassuring tones of her husband. "Hey, wait a second, Gus isn't home yet? I just knew he'd really gotten himself in trouble trying to drive home in this lousy weather.

"What's this? I thought he would have been with you. The man at the bowling alley said everyone had been sent to the high school; Gus should be there now."

"You're right, he should be here, but he had to be stubborn as an ox and said he thought he could beat the storm home. When the centurions tried to warn him that the winds were picking up faster than expected, he told them he had served in the Army as a charioteer and knew how to drive under dangerous conditions and that he would be all right. They told him to be extremely careful if he insisted on driving home, and they told him to abandon his chariot if the weather worsened and to seek shelter anywhere he could find until the storm was over. That was the last I saw of him before he drove away. That's why I called you before calling Henrietta and Groovia; I wanted to be sure that he made it home safely, and I figured you could get word to Henrietta that I'm all right since there's a mile long line of people waiting for the phone."

"Herman, I'll be happy to call your family for you; but first, can you tell me how long ago did Gus leave?"

"Well, I've been standing in line waiting for the phone for twenty minutes, so I would guess it's been a half hour."

"Then he should have made it home by now."

"Mrs. Holiday, I know it's easy to assume the worst when a loved one is overdue during a storm, but unless we find out otherwise, we have to believe he's all right. Remember, no news is good news. He's probably hold up some place there isn't a phone, waiting for the winds to die down enough for him to get the rest of the way home. If he's an Army veteran, he would know how to survive under dangerous conditions."

"I hope you're right, Herman."

"For what it's worth, you're not the only one at their whit's end; we may not always be the best of buddies or ever promise to be considering the differences we've had in the past, but I don't want to see harm come to him or anybody else who's stuck out there either." When the sharp tones of a highly disgruntled man interrupted the discourse shared by the concerned pair, Herman drew a heavy sigh and changed the subject when he would have rather given Mrs. Holiday more words of comfort and encouragement. "I really hate to cut you off, but there's still a line of people behind me waiting impatiently for the phone. Don't worry, I think your hubby will either come through that door or be accounted for before the night is out."

"Thank you, Herman. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

When the phone clicked into silence, Laurie felt as though she had been cut off from her very lifeline. Her heart hammering in her chest, she quickly contacted Herman's family to pass along the news that they need not worry about him, for he was waiting out the storm in a designated shelter. As badly as she wanted to seek encouragement from Henrietta, Laurie knew that she had to keep her line open in case Gus was to phone. It seemed to take an eternity for the winds to die down, and sufficient time had passed for the missing Roman to return, even if he were forced to abandon his chariot and walk home. However, he failed to come through that door, thus causing Laurie to drown in the rushing torrents of fear, fear that something might have happened to him. Sleep would not overtake her, and she was unwilling to even think of going to bed until she got word on Gus one way or another. Hopefully, he would have sought shelter at someone's house or another building whose door was open, but if that were so, why didn't he call her to let her know he was all right?

Suddenly a heavy hand knocked on the front door with four sharp pounds, causing the frazzled woman to leap out of her skin! If Gus had forgotten his house key, his knock certainly wouldn't have sounded like that! Dread and sickening nausea had to only be magnified one hundred fold when her "Who is it?" was answered by only one word, "Centurion". Trembling all over, she padded over to the door and gripped the knob with a right hand that shook so violently that it was a wonder she could have gotten the door open at all.

"Are you Mrs. Gus Holiday?" a formidable sandy haired man who, standing at six feet four, towered over the distraught lady.

"I … I … Uh … What's happened to Gus?" she nervously floundered for the words to say, hoping for the best, but not able to extinguish the possibility this man might be announcing her new widow's status.

"Ma'am, I know you're worried about your husband and that you had expected to see him coming through this door instead of me. May I come in please? I think we need to talk."

"Uh … c-come in then …" she ushered for the law enforcement officer to enter and indicated the couch on which he was invited to sit. As soon as she ducked into the kitchen and returned with some coffee for her guest, she sat in Gus's favorite chair and gripped the arm rests with white knuckled hands as if it would be responsible for bringing him back from whatever dire straits he might be in.

_Whimper whimper._ Brutus slowly dragged his paws to Laurie's side and peered up to her, sensing something was horribly wrong. _Whimper, sob sob._ He laid his head on her lap, his salty tears leaving wet dots on her toga.

"Ma'am, I realize this isn't an easy time for you, and I would be doing you a disservice if I hid the truth from you. I won't beat around the bush," the no nonsense officer began, "we found a runaway chariot with no driver causing problems in the down town area. We were able to bring the horse under control and get it back to the station. We found a bowling bag in the chariot and decided to check and see if there was any identifying mark or a name on the bag or the ball inside. We found this along with a brown bowling ball that has the name 'Gus Holiday' written between the thumb and finger holes. Does this belong to your husband?" He passed a gray wallet with dog-eared corners to the forty-one-year-old who closed the fingers of her right hand around it as if her very heart would stop beating if she were to let go of it.

"Oh no! This is Gus's! Please tell me, what's happened to him?" she, her left arm wrapped around Brutus, cried out in panic, forgetting at this point that she would awaken the children.

"I know this has to be very frightening for you, Mrs. Holiday, but rest assured, we're doing all we can to locate your husband. We're not sure what exactly has happened to him; as I said the chariot was empty when we found it. Chances are he might have either fallen out or abandoned it when the winds picked up. We had to wait until the winds died down a bit before deploying a search detail, but we now have men combing the area where the chariot was found for a five mile radius. If Mr. Holiday is found injured, we will take him to the hospital immediately, and if he has fled on foot, our officers will get him into the nearest shelter if he hasn't been found in one already, and check in with the rest of us as to his whereabouts. The second we find out anything, we will pass the information on to you."

_Moan moan sob sob sob sob sob sob._ Hearing that his master was missing, Brutus bawled even harder, leaving a little lake of teardrops in the lady's lap. _Sob sob sob sob whimper whimper sob sob sob._

"Easy, Brutus, it's going to be OK. They'll find Gus," she tried ardently to console her pet and herself as she whispered to him and patted his side.

"What's going on here?" teenager Happius, "Happy" Holiday yawned as he emerged from his bedroom, immediately feeling his guts swirl as if caught in a whirlpool upon seeing the policeman and noticing the ashen countenance of his mother.

"Happy, go back to bed, I'm sorry I woke you, sweetie," Laurie, while wiping the first traces of misty teardrops away with the back of her hand, tried her best to dismiss her son, for she didn't want him to find out his father was missing – not this way and not at this time!

_Whimper whimper sob sob sob sob sob._ Brutus slipped out from under Laurie's arm and sought solace from the youth by nuzzling into his torso.

"No, I won't go back to bed! What's up with Brutus, and what's going on around here? Where's Dad?" the dark haired seventeen-year-old demanded, his fatigued state now evaporated and replaced with an alert frame of mind that would have people left with the impression that he was prepared to drop out of high school and join the ranks of the Roman Army right then and there!

"Shshshshsh, we don't want to wake up Precocia," the matriarch admonished, raising a finger to her lips and shaking her head.

"Too late," red haired grade schooler Precocia Holiday groggily groaned as she exited her room while rubbing her sleepy eyes. "Is something wrong? Did something happen to Daddy?" she blurted out when she observed the absence of her father and the presence of a law enforcement officer.

_Whimper sob sob sob._ Brutus turned his attention to the youngest member of the clan and nuzzled her at chest level.

"Something did happen to Daddy didn't it? Why else would Brutus be acting like this?" she, her eyes growing saucer wide, cried out, trying ardently not to panic.

"Now, kids, I'll handle this. Staying up half the night worrying won't bring Daddy home any faster. Until we hear otherwise, we have to believe he's all right." Laurie was just as terrified of the prospect of losing Gus as ever, but she had to remain strong for her children's sake, for they would need her encouragement at a time like this.

While the holidays sat in wait for any news, good or bad, the winds, though considerably calmer than they were an hour ago, still stirred up with a fury that could only be compared to that of an avenger of blood hunting for and closing in on his foe. The officers who were assigned to seek any fallen men or folks who were caught in the storm stumbled around in the darkness, uncertain if they would retrieve the target of their search.

"Over here!" one of the centurions bellowed at the top of his lungs, unsure if the winds would carry his words away before his co-workers would have a chance to hear them. "I found something over here!" When another officer quickly arrived at his partner's side, the first man held a lantern over the fallen form that was covered from head to toe in a thin layer of dirt and tiny bits of debris that had been whipped up by the high winds. "It could be the guy who belongs to that run away chariot we brought in earlier!" Squatting low so he could address the motionless man, he checked for a pulse at the carotid artery and then tapped the victim's left cheek in hopes of reviving him. "He's alive … Sir, can you hear me! Can you hear me!" He swore under his breath as his hand balled into a fist of frustration. "No response; we'll have to get him to the hospital before anything else happens to him out here! Any of those larger tree branches fall on him, and we're looking at major trouble!" Turning to his partner, he ordered, "Check for ID! If he has family, we'll have to alert them!"

"I don't see any!" the other policeman shouted after having scanned the surrounding area for a wallet and searching through the fellow's cloak and toga.

"Chief, we have an unconscious male a few yards off the main road … appearing to be in his early forties … no ID … send the paramedics … We'll stay with him until they arrive … It appears he was hit in the head by some projectile … cut doesn't appear to be too deep, but there is lots of blood … We're about three and a half blocks north of the bowling alley!" The law enforcement officer belted out his report into the two way radio that kept him in contact with headquarters.

"Roger!" a tinny representation of the chief's voice answered back, barely heard over the angry winds.

Meanwhile, the Holiday family, in the warmth and safety of their living room, heard the entire drama playing out via the visiting policeman's two way radio. Though the possibility of the family's becoming fatherless had been held at bay for now, nobody could relax after having acquired the stomach churning knowledge that the comatose victim could be their missing family member. Brutus resumed his pacing, which had increased in speed, and he nuzzled or cried on the laps of Laurie, Happy, and Precocia as though they could explain the reason his master was nowhere to be seen. Unable to bring herself to words, Precocia buried her face in her sibling's chest and shook violently, resisting the urge to burst into tears, for she feared that if the wails issued forth from her, she would not be able to stop. Fright seized her like a bony hand threatening to choke the life from her, as Gus Holiday had never gone missing before, and he had never been rendered unconscious and hospitalized due to injuries as far as she could remember. He did once go in for pneumonia, but Laurie had prepared her and Happy for Gus's temporary departure. Somehow this felt different to her, very different.

"Is that Dad they're talking about?" Happy inquired, his arms snaking around Precocia in a big brother's comforting gesture and his eyes remaining fixed on the talking device as if it were the one to provide all his answers instead of the living breathing officer who sat on the couch partaking of the hot coffee Laurie had presented him with upon his entry into their apartment.

"It's possible; however, there could be other townspeople who are caught out in the storm and could be similarly injured. Mrs. Holiday, does your husband have any distinctive marks on his body such as a scar or birth mark? Are there any other distinguishing features you can provide so we can determine who this gentleman might be?"

"Well, he's got dark, wavy hair and is wearing a laurel wreath. He also has a birth mark on the back of his left ankle, about half an inch; it looks kind of like an oblong raisin." Upon receiving the umpteenth cold, wet nudge from her pet, she shooed him away with the wave of her left hand. "Brutus, we don't know where Gus is, and there's nothing we can do right now. You'd better go lie down; I know you're upset, but you're getting under foot, and that's not going to bring him back any faster." She turned her attention to the centurion to apologize for taking the current subject off topic. "I'm sorry, centurion; Brutus loves Gus and is just worried about him."

"I do understand, Mrs. Holiday; I have two lion cubs at home that get like that when I'm overdue from a late night assignment." Retrieving his radio, he opened a frequency. "Search Detail, I'm with a family who has someone missing in the storm. Does the victim have dark, wavy hair and a laurel wreath?"

"The victim does have dark, wavy hair; laurel wreath looks to be slightly damaged but reparable."

"Check the victim's left ankle for an oblong birth mark, approximately half an inch in length and reportedly shaped like a raisin," the officer mandated. "I have reason to believe it might be that guy who owns that runaway chariot we're holding back at the station."

"Affirmative, there is a mark as you described on the victim's left ankle. We have already sent for the paramedics to take him to the hospital and get that wound patched up."

"Acknowledged." The policeman set his radio aside and shot back the last swallow of coffee in his goblet before placing it on the end table to his right. "Mrs. Holiday, the worst of the storm has passed, but we don't' advise anyone riding a chariot until the winds calm down some more. I can take you to the hospital to go see your husband; however, we'll have to go on foot."

"But if we can't drive, how will you get Gus there?" When Brutus approached her, obviously having failed to heed her command and giving her a sloppy lick up the left side of her head, Laurie tapped his nose and spoke more sternly, but not unkindly. "Brutus, I told you there is nothing we can do for Gus; I want you to go lie down! Go in the kitchen and lie down now!"

_Grumble grumble grumble._ With that, the family pet snorted as if to say, "Sheesh, what a grouch" and padded into the kitchen as he was told.

"Mrs. Holiday, you can rest assured the paramedics are trained in transporting patients under adverse conditions; they will get Mr. Holiday to the hospital safely. A detail of four will check him for broken bones, bind him to a litter, and carry him themselves if they have to. Normally, they would load and secure the litter onto an extension that is attached to a chariot or sling it between two horses; however in these winds, it's safest for the patient and more time efficient if the paramedics carry the litter, two at each end."

"I understand, officer." She turned to face her son and daughter who remained frozen on the couch trying to digest the tidal wave of events that swirled in their heads since they exited their rooms and learned all was not well with their father. "Happy, you and Precocia stay here while I find out what's going on with your father. I know it'll be hard, but try to get some rest. I promise I will call the second I find out any news." With that, Laurie swiftly flitted over to the closet and donned her cloak. "Don't worry, everything will be OK," she uttered these words in hopes of convincing herself as well as her children.

"Come on, Precocia, let's listen to some tunes," Happy suggested a distraction to help soothe his little sister's nerves that were wearing thin with no small thanks to this scary incident. "We can't crank 'em too loud because of the noise curfew though; we don't want Mr. Evictus coming after us."

"How are we going to play any music without the power, Hap? Stereos don't exactly run on coffee." the young girl arched her eyebrows as she met Happy's eyes.

"My clock radio runs on batteries. Come on, sis, a little music will help keep our minds off Dad for a little while." The mop top teenager rose with his left arm wrapped around the youngest Holiday's shoulders and escorted her to his bedroom while Laurie ventured out into the inclement weather with the police officer who guided her and guarded her from airborne projectile as they trudged through the mud and debris on their way to the hospital.

Fortunately, while Laurie and her police escort braved the elements while en route to their destination, the paramedics arrived on the scene and descended upon the fallen victim, wasting no time in checking him for broken bones and to see that his vital signs were stable. One man uttered a string of several profane words when he detected a tell tale swelling that presented prominently enough to be felt through the patient's toga.

"He may have one or two severely bruised or fractured ribs caused by impact when he hit the ground! Careful! We don't want to take any chances with any possible fractures!" a paramedic ordered, working in unity with his three partners to gingerly lift the fallen patient, position him onto the litter, and cover him up with a heavy blanket in case he were to awaken and go into shock. "Someone hand over those ropes! Julius and Remus, you two hold him steady while Lucus and I lash him down! If he falls, any broken bones will suffer greater damage, and that would mean big trouble for this guy!" As soon as they were certain Gus was safely tied to his rudimentary conveyance, they all took their positions at each end, ready to run! "Let's go!" the leader bellowed, determined to get the patient into shelter as quickly as possible. They ran with all their might against the wind, making certain nothing further would happen to the unconscious man, who, unbeknown to him, was about to begin a chain of events that would ultimately change his life forever.


	2. Revelations and Apparitions

Chapter 2 – Revelations and Apparitions

"We are the ones He called by name" – Born Again by Newsboys

"Augustus … Augustus."

The sound of his given name rang through his pounding head, but he couldn't, for the life of him identify the voice, which sounded like the rushing waters, a voice that belonged to someone he dared not correct for using the formal name he preferred not to answer to.

"Who's there?" Gus could hear the question coming from his mouth but was unable to see whom he was addressing through the thick fog that enveloped him.

"Augustus."

"Who are you? What do you want?" Gus demanded as the disorientation faded out, leaving him to realize he was standing on the road on which he had been driving moments ago and wonder what happened to his chariot. "What's going on around here?"

"Augustus, come. Do not be afraid."

"Who said that?" He, with saucer wide eyes, scanned his surroundings, unable to locate the aberration.

"Someone who loves and cares for you very much. Come, and do not be afraid."

Realizing this specter would not back down unless obedience was rendered, Gus drew a heavy sigh and began to trudge the empty road through the night winds, which had inexplicably diminished to a gentle breeze.

"Come off the main road, and be of great courage; there is nothing to fear."

"Why do you keep saying for me to not-" the Roman argued as he veered off the road and froze in his tracks when his eyes beheld something a discrete distance away. After he focused on the commotion, he swallowed hard at the sight of his prone body being rushed away on a litter that was carried by four burly men. Strangely, they appeared to fight strong winds while a breeze barely blew through the trees. "Yikes! What happened to me? And why are those guys fighting high winds when it's barely blowing now? None of this makes sense!"

"I am capable of all things; including control of the winds from the north, south, east, and west. As for what happened to you, you are about to begin a journey, one you would have refused to consider if I'd called you to it while you were still awake."

"What does that mean?"

"Excuse me?" A mid-height, slightly heavy set stranger with light brown hair suddenly approached Gus from the left, interrupting the conversation held between man and spiritual being. "Don't you work at the Forum Construction Company?"

Profound relief swept over Gus like a warm blanket that his mother would have spread over him when he was ill as a child. At last, there was an actual person present, one who might know the identity of the invisible entity who was confounding the forty-three-year-old rather than comforting him.

"Aren't you that new guy who never eats at the quarry, the one everyone says likes to have lunch in the park?

"Yes, I am. You probably don't know me since I drive a chariot and don't lift marble. I'm Macius, the new delivery guy."

"Gus Holiday." The construction worker extended his hand to shake with his new acquaintance. "Say, Macius, do you know who that other guy is, the one who kept telling me to come and not be afraid? I can hear him, but I can't see him anywhere."

"I know Him very well; He and I go to church on weekends and do just about everything together." Macius calmly answered his company, apparently unperturbed by the strangeness of a faceless man's presence.

"Is he always like th- … Wait a second … church … you're one of those weirdoes that practice some kind of superstition. What do they call you … Christians?" Immediately, Gus felt the claw of trepidation close around his neck, his heart palpitating with such force that it would not surprise him if it leaped out of his chest of its own accord! Christians hadn't been living in Rome for very long, and many Romans were often frightened of these men and their seemingly unusual ways, failing to realize how kind and gentle they truly were. "Stay away from me, _superstitionis novae ac maleficae_!" he cried out in horror, bolting for the main road, his only hope to get as far away from this stranger as possible! With no warning, he caught the front edge of his sandal in a small rut in the road and wound up sprawled out on the hard, rough ground. The shadow of the kindly Macius drew ominously closer, and Gus, unable to stumble to his feet, was certain he would have a stroke right there on the path!

"Do not be afraid of him, Augustus." The faceless anomaly was back again, bringing the terrified Roman's composure into cureless ruin as he lay there shaking and blanching to such an ashen shade, most onlookers would mistake him for a dead man!

"Stay … away … from … me!" he panted, the stress causing hyperventilation to manifest.

"Augustus, do not fear Macius. Listen to him, and all will go well with you."

"What … what do you want with me?" the frightened fellow managed to query, his trembling hands cupped over his nose and mouth in order to resume normal breathing. How he mustered the strength to move, he did not know; it was as if his hands automatically knew what to do.

This time, the invisible specter patiently remained silent, allowing Macius to smile down on his new friend and speak in a kind, nonjudgmental tone. "All I can say is that you will have to trust the one who created you and don't let your fears or preconceived notions stop you from traveling the path you are destined for. He loves you and won't harm you, Gus Holiday." With that, he promptly darted off in a full gallop, leaving the disturbed man alone with the mysterious being.

"What are you talking about!" Gus finally gathered enough strength to climb to his feet on wobbly legs and screamed after the departing co-worker. "What did you mean by that!"

"Augustus."

"You again?" the bewildered blue collar worker whirled around on one heal to attempt to meet the eyes of this faceless presence but saw nothing!

"Augustus, one day, you will take a leap of faith, but first, you must be prepared."

"That doesn't make sense!"

"Be of great courage. You will know what to do when the time comes."

These words were the last the marble lifter heard before everything faded to black.

The storm clouds outside were no match for the clouds of apprehension that closed in around Laurie, who sat in the hospital waiting room with the centurion sitting in a chair opposite her reading an outdated copy of the news scroll. She was in such a distraught state, the officer, who had alerted the medical staff as to Gus's identity, dared not leave her unattended, especially if the doctor were to appear and render unfortunate tidings concerning her beloved husband. Unable to concentrate on any reading material that lay across the cluttered end tables, she repeatedly made trips to the drinking fountain, resulting in one or two stops to the washroom before a gray-at-the-temples physician approached her.

"Are you Mrs. Holiday?"

"Yes?" the anxious lady answered, the police officer abandoning his reading material and stepping over, ready to settle any hysteria if necessary.

"I'm Doctor Checkius, the emergency room doctor who admitted your husband." He, with a calm countenance that didn't foreshadow any tragic announcements, signaled for Laurie to follow him; and the centurion, after asking her if she still wanted him to remain with her, smiled and nodded before he departed when she indicated she would be all right on her own now.

"How … how is he, doctor?" Laurie both wanted and dreaded to know the answer to her question. "May I see him?"

"He's been taken to his room; however, he's still unconscious; he took a pretty nasty hit to the head."

"How bad is it?"

"There is a moderate laceration to Mr. Holiday's head where the projectile hit him during the storm; after we got him cleaned up, we stitched him up and applied a bandage that he'll have to wear for about a week. Tests show that he's got a mild concussion, but we don't suspect he'll have sustained any lasting damage. He may, however, suffer headaches while he's healing. Because we don't know exactly what hit him, we've set up an anti-biotic drip to fight off any signs of infection. As for other injuries, he's got three ribs that are severely bruised; if he'd have fallen any harder, those bruises would have been full blown breaks. We wrapped him up to protect those ribs and allow them to heal properly."

"Do you have any idea when you expect him to wake up?"

"In cases like this, it depends largely on the patient and how resilient he might be. Mr. Holliday appears to have a hard head, and if he's got a strong constitution, it won't be long before he regains consciousness. After that happens, I still want to keep him in hospital for a few days so we can observe him and determine if he's ready to return home."

The traverse down the hallway felt more like a march to an execution, for Laurie, though knowing what to expect, still dreaded the moment when she would set eyes on Gus, a man known for his independent nature and fierce determination, now reduced to an unmoving comatose patient. The room was like any other one would find in a hospital with its plain, grey walls and window overlooking a parking lot. The only thing that set this one apart from all others was the silent form that lay in the sterol, white bed, crisp linens and a plain blanket covering him to the arm pits. Gus's left hand lay limp by his side, his wrist watch replaced with a stark, white identification band, and the IV tube attached to the back of his hand. His normally smug visage was now nearly as pallid as the dressing that snuggly encircled his head, and Laurie gulped at seeing him in such a helpless state. After the doctor said she could visit for as long as she wanted, she shuffled over to the patient's bedside, settled down on the worn cushion of the chair, and reached over to tenderly stroke the top of Gus's head, knowing full well that he would be oblivious to the gesture. Realizing her children had to be told the latest news concerning their dad, she scanned the moveable table on the other side of the bed, finding only Gus's wedding ring, hourglass wrist watch, and the laurel wreath that required minor repairs before it could be worn again, but no telephone. She knew that the hospital on the other side of town had hookups in the patient rooms, but she was uncertain if the service was available here.

"Doctor, do these rooms have hookup for a phone, or would I have to call my children at the admission desk?

"We've had some recent renovations, and there's phone access in all the patient rooms as of two days ago; however, we hadn't quite finished distributing the telephones yet. I'll see that one is brought in here for you so you can contact your children without having to leave Mr. Holiday's side."

"Thank you, doctor. I know it sounds silly, but I don't want him to be alone when he comes to. I know he's not a man given to fear, but I can't help thinking he would be very unsettled if he woke up not knowing where he was or what he was doing here and having nobody to …"

"It's not silly, Mrs. Holiday. We won't know what he remembers until he comes around. There's no telling if he had lost consciousness immediately when the projectile hit him or if he did so after he'd been lying there for a while. If the latter applies, there is less likelihood of disorientation upon awakening. I have to admit, it's admirable of you to be sensitive to what might go through the mind of a person in your husband's condition; sadly, that doesn't always occur to my patients' family and friends. Another thing I should tell you about dealing with a comatose patient; though we don't know for certain if they can hear us or not, it's always best to act as if they can. Remember, if you do talk to him, make sure what you say is encouraging; patients do far better when discourse is of a positive nature."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

"He's not so ill that he can't have visitors, but I do advise that they come in one at a time. If you and your family and friends want to maintain a round-the-clock vigil, just remember to keep conversations in moderation. We don't want to over or under stimulate him. I'm sorry to break this to you, especially if your children are younger, but according to hospital policy, we can't allow visitors under the age of thirteen. It's as much for the child's protection as for the patients."

"Oh dear, that would break Precocia's heart. She and Gus have always been so close," Laurie sighed, her right hand continuing to lightly brush through Gus's hair while the fingers of her left hand rested in the pleats in her lilac colored knee length toga.

"I'm truly sorry, Mrs. Holiday, but there's nothing we can do about it. Of course when Mr. Holiday regains consciousness, he can call her on the phone for as long as he feels up to it." Doctor Checkius turned to exit with a weak smile directed the lady's way. "I'll have someone bring a phone in here. If he stirs, be sure to send for me immediately."

"Certainly, Doctor. Thank you."

When a telephone had finally been delivered and hooked up, the night shift nurse instructed Laurie on how to place an outside call so she could honor her promise to keep her children in the know concerning their dad's condition and prognosis.

"Hello," Happy, who had darted from his room in an effort to answer the phone before its jangling bell would awaken his slumbering sister or any other surrounding neighbors, greeted, having knocked over two framed photographs when he grabbed for the receiver.

"Happy, it's Mom, I'm calling from the hospital. Are you kids doing all right?"

"We're fine. Precocia fell asleep while we were listening to the radio. Is there any news on Dad?" the youth wanted to know as he settled on the couch and straightened the fallen frames.

"He's still out cold. The doctor says he took a pretty bad blow to the head and has bruised ribs but is expected to be all right. They're just waiting for him to come around; then they can watch him for a few days and see if he's clear of any side effects before they release him."

"Awww man, I wish I could see him!" a deeply disappointed Happy hissed through clenched teeth, pounding the tabletop with his right fist while squeezing the receiver with his left hand.

"I know, dear, but someone has to stay with Precocia. If only she were just a few years older, I'd have brought you with me already."

"Hey, what if I called groovia and asked her to stay with Precocia while her folks drop me off at the hospital?"

"It would have to wait until morning. I know you're anxious to see your father, but we need to think this through. Precocia's probably upset enough; we don't need for her to wake up and find you missing, even if Groovia's there with her. It would be just too much. We also don't know if Herman came home or is still waiting out the storm at the high school. By morning, it should be safe to drive again; he will most likely be home or on his way; and you can tell Precocia everything we've talked about while you two eat breakfast. That way, you can still come here without causing your sister further distress. She's going to be disappointed enough that she can't see Dad until he's released."

"I just hate feeling so stinkin' helpless! I wanna do something, mom."

"I know you do, honey, but there's nothing more we can do tonight. I'll call again if your dad wakes up before morning. Now, please try to get some sleep; you can call Groovia first thing when you get up to see if she'll stay with precocia, and you can arrange for her parents to give you a ride over here."

"OK OK, I'll try," Happy sighed heavily, clearly not living up to his name, for he was growing into a young man not dissimilar to his father, a man who wanted to just dive in and get things done without waiting for anyone. "Night, Mom."

"Good night, Happy."

When the phone clicked into a silence that hovered over Happy like a heavy shroud, he dropped the receiver into its cradle and shuffled to the bedrooms. Since Precocia had fallen asleep in his room, he decided not to disturb her, leaving her in his bed while he would lie down in another bed. Because Brutus had tired of sleeping on the kitchen floor, he took advantage of Gus and Laurie's absence, entering the master bedroom and sprawling out on a more comfortable surface. For some reason, he favored the foot of the queen size bed more than any other piece of furniture in the whole apartment! With only one bed left for his use, Hap took up temporary lodging in Precocia's room. It was a long night for the teenager, who lay restless beneath the pale pink sheets and patchwork quilt that was made up of left over squares of material used for girls' clothing. It would be a miracle if he could pull off more than three hours sleep before daybreak and his much anticipated trip to his father's bedside.

The morning had unfolded as planned with Happy preparing breakfast for Precocia and himself, relaying the latest "Daddy update" to her as they partook of the over-cooked but still eatable waffles, and arranging for Groovia to stay with her while Herman and Henrietta drive him to the hospital. When the youth and his adult company approached the nurse's station, they inquired as to Gus's condition and the possibility the injured Roman could receive visitors.

"He's only allowed one visitor at a time," Healthia, the morning shift nurse apologized, meeting the eyes of the concerned trio. "Are any of you related to Mr. Holiday? Family members do take priority in cases like this."

"I'm his son," Happy answered, wasting no time in proclaiming his relation to the silent patient who lay in a hospital bed down the hallway. "Happius Holiday." He produced his wallet from inside his cloak as he had seen his father do on numerous occasions and pulled out what he hoped would pass for a valid form of identification – his charioteer's license. If only he had thought to ask where Gus kept all the important scrolls; he'd be able to produce his birth certificate, absolute proof of his relation to the comatose Roman. "I don't guess this would work, would it?" he sighed, afraid the nurse would deny him access to his dad.

"Happy, you go in and see your father; we'll wait out here," Henrietta gestured for the teenager to follow Healthia down the corridor. "Ma'am, he's all right; my husband and I have known him and his family for years; we can certainly vouch for him."

After rendering a quick nod Happy's way, Healthia signaled for him to accompany her to Gus's temporary abode. Upon entry, the high schooler was met with a silenced that was so thick he could have eaten it with a spoon; not only was Gus's normally annoying snoring unheard, but there was no sound issuing forth from Laurie, who sat curled up in the chair beside the bed with her cloak draped over her as a make-shift blanket and her right arm tucked under her head for an improvised pillow. Quiet as a mouse, the teenager crept over to his mother's side and gently tapped her shoulder until she, unlike her unfortunate spouse, showed signs of life.

"Huh? Oh, is Gus…" she muttered, having jolted awake with a start.

"Looks like he's still out, Mom."

"I must have fallen asleep," Laurie observed as she stumbled to her feet to stretch. "Happy, you're not supposed to be in here, sweetheart, dad's only allowed one visitor at a time."

"I know. They told me at the desk. I thought I could give you a break and sit with Dad so you could go eat or sleep or something. And you don't have to worry about Precocia; Groovia's with her back at the apartment. Just before I left, she made me promise to call as soon as Dad wakes up." He slid passed his mother and settled into the chair that was still warm from her occupying it through the night and rested his right hand on the patient's left shoulder.

Laurie didn't want to leave her beloved spouse's side; however, if she didn't even attempt to eat something, she would never hear the end of it from her son or Groovia's parents, who were kind enough to drive the teenager over in the first place. "Remember, the doctor wants to be notified the minute your father comes to. Thank you for sitting with him, dear." With that, she kissed her son on the cheek and leaned over to give Gus's hair one last pet before departing for some breakfast and the company of Herman and Henrietta.

"Haya, Pop," Hap began the one sided discourse, laboring to find some subject matter to share with the comatose man, making sure it was of a positive nature. "I thought I'd come and hang with you for a little while; how ya feeling?" Hap's words went unheard by the invalid, whose troubled mind was otherwise occupied as it had been when his wounded form was discovered by the paramedics in the storm.

The faint echoes of music rang through his head until they sharply increased in volume the instant he found himself sitting at his desk pouring over the monthly bills. The music rattled his nerves and caused him to feel as if his head would burst instantly. After a few items fell from the desk, though it was uncertain if they were shaken from their place by the music's vibrations or swept by a frazzled Gus's arm, the family man rose from his chair with his hands clapped firmly over the sides of his pounding head.

"Happius Holiday, turn that down before Evictus comes up here and tosses us out on our keisters!" he sternly ordered to no avail, for there was no way of knowing if his voice was any match for the noise that issued forth from Hap's bedroom. "If you don't want me to take that stereo away, you have ten seconds to turn it down!" he threatened before swinging the door open, the music instantly dropping to a tolerable volume without Happy's having to touch one single knob.

To his utter surprise, Gus discovered Hap sitting at his desk busily studying his homework while his visiting redneck nephew, Claudius, sat on the bed working to repair a toaster.

"Well, howdy, Uncle Gus, whatter ya doin' in here? The farm born teen looked up from his project and rendered a crooked smile his relative's way.

"I came to warn you guys to keep it down before the landlord has a conniption and we get an eviction. And when did you get here, Claudius, I don't remember picking you up at the bus station."

"Well, I just got here a minute ago to fix this here toaster thang for Aint Laurie and give ya some friendly advice."

"You came all this way to fix a toaster and give me … your uncle who was already married when you were born … some advice?" Gus had trouble digesting the fact that a teenager who didn't know enough to drink one cup of punch instead of guzzling down the entire bowlful was there to give him, a grown man with many accomplishments under his wing, some words of wisdom.

"Well sure. I just wanna tell ya to practice what you preach, Uncle Gus."

"Come again?" The Roman felt his ire rising, for how could this backward youth dare to accuse him of being a pot that calls the kettle black!

"I'll put it to ya this way, remember when I came to that prom party last year, and ya told Cousin Precocia not to judge me, somethin' about not tellin' a book from its cover?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Then shouldn't ya give that thar Macius feller a chance too?"

"You want me to hang around with a superstitious stranger who … Wait a second, how did you know about …"

"Augustus." The faceless apparition was back again, only now he had entered the apartment unannounced, interrupting the discourse between uncle and nephew!

"You again? Who let you in here?" Turning toward the open bedroom door, he called to his unseen wife, "Laurie! Did you let anybody in here and forget to introduce me?" Hearing no answer, he continued to question, "Is he your friend or did he show up with Claudius?"

"Augustus, I am here for you; I love you deeper than any ocean and higher than any mountain. My presence had manifested for your welfare. It will soon be time for you to begin your journey."

"WHO! ARE! YOU!" the words tore from the tortured man's throat as he felt his body tremble all over far more violently than when he had encountered the being on the roadside!

"Augustus, heed my words and all will go well with you. Do not fear what you do not know; I will not let you fall."

"WHO! ARE! YOU!" Gus grew desperate to find out who this entity was and why he was suddenly so interested in him and his welfare when no such concerns had ever been expressed through the forty-three years of his lifetime.

"Pop?" Happy approached his distraught father's side and rested his right hand on the older man's trembling left shoulder. "Pop, are you all right?" Oddly enough, the boy's words sounded very clear, as if they were the only words to be heard over a staticky radio signal, and there was something different about the sensation of the youth's hand on his shoulder, but he couldn't put his finger on what that was.

"Can you hear me?" Another man's voice briefly and faintly rang through the air; however, it did not cause the same degree of trepidation as this reportedly loving specter had been doing.

After a lengthy pause had elapsed and the presence's hidden identity would cause him to snap, Gus cried out one more time, "Tell me, who are you!" Finally, with no warning, and with the entity's not having answered the query, the bedroom gradually faded away, leaving the hapless Gus Holiday in a profound state of disorientation.


	3. Peculiarities

Chapter 3 – Peculiarities

"Your kindness wakened me, awakened me, from my sleep" – Marvelous Light by Charlie Hall

"Who are you …" Gus faintly moaned, his speech so slurred, one would wonder if he had consumed copious amounts of the finest wine. "Who are you …"

"Pop?" Hap tightened his grip on the hospital patient's shoulder and waited for more words to issue forth from his mouth. "Pop, are you all right?" Hearing nothing else, he drew a heavy sigh, for he was hoping this meant a return to consciousness was soon to come. The next thirty seconds of silence could be cut with a sword but was, instead sliced with a very distinct moan coming from the injured Augustus Holiday, who was also mustering every ounce of strength he had to move his head to one side! "Pop, it's OK, it's going to be OK; I'm right here, and mom will be back soon." Not daring to let go of his father, Hap brought his left hand down upon the nurse's call button, resorting to the only way he could think of to get help without having to leave the sick man's bedside. "I think he's coming around," he informed Healthia, who had entered within a few minutes, pleasantly surprised to be summoned into a room whose occupant had been unconscious since his arrival.

"Mr. Holiday? Mr. Holiday?" she leaned over the troubled form in the hospital bed whose eyes were beginning to crack open. "Mr. Holiday, you're all right; you're safe now," she tried to assure her patient that there was no need to be frightened; however, she had no idea of how deeply the revelations he had while still comatose had touched him.

Still feeling the effects of the visions that haunted him since this whole incident began, Gus strove feverishly to communicate with his son and the nurse; however, his weakened state had temporarily reduced him to a nearly helpless man who was not yet strong enough to get passed slight head rolls and desperate moaning.

Healthia wasted no time in fetching Dr. Checkius, who sailed to Gus's bedside. "Mr. Holiday? Mr. Holiday, can you hear me? Can you hear me?" he attempted to address the injured fellow, his words spoken slowly but firmly.

"Tell me, who are you …" The Roman's speech, though still considerably slurred, showed the first signs of clarity with this last question that reflected just how troubled he was.

"Dad, that's your doctor," Happy attempted to sooth his parent's shaken nerves.

Somehow his offspring's words managed to reach the inner recesses of his mind, and Gus gathered every fiber of his strength to communicate with those who stood around him. The male voice who asked if he could hear him was certainly not the one whose identity the construction worker demanded to know, and why would a doctor who probably didn't know him talk about loving him? "Not … him … not … him …"

"He's incoherent, indications he's still only semi-conscious," the physician observed. "I know you want to see your father awake, son, but it's important not to rush him into consciousness before he's ready; However, I don't think it will be long before he comes out of it on his own power."

"Who's … the … guy …" the bedridden Roman repeated his query as he rolled his head in his son's direction.

"Dad, the only other guy in here besides me is the doctor."

"No … not … him … an-other one …"

"He must be part of a dream you're having; none of us see anybody else in here. It's just me, the nurse, and the doctor."

The thick fog that enveloped Gus began to burn off, revealing a blurred representation of his temporary quarters and his company to him. As he laboriously collected the strength to open his eyes wider and allowed his environment to come into focus, he noticed the absence of his beloved wife and daughter! Laurie … where's Laurie? Where's Precocia?" Though his speech was clearing, there was no mistaking the weakness reflected in his voice.

"Precocia had to stay home, Pop, but don't worry, Groovia and Brutus are with her. They say she's too young to come in here, and Mom's downstairs with Groovia's folks having something to eat. She stayed up with you all night and fell asleep in the chair. That's how I found her when I showed up." Hap attempted to explain the whereabouts of half the Holiday family in words that were simple enough for his parent to understand in his current condition, briefly pausing between sentences to make sure Gus was still following him.

"Mr. Holiday, I'm Dr. Checkius, the emergency room doctor who admitted you last night. Tell me how are you feeling right now?"

"My side is killing me; my head feels like it's splitting apart; and I didn't ask for you; I asked for my wife." Though his debilitated state prevented him from using his voice to its fullest, the wounded fellow got the point across that he was certainly not a happy camper.

"You'll have to forgive him, sir; he always gets real cranky when he's sick or just waking up," Hap apologized to the medic for his dad's behavior.

"Think nothing of it, son, when patients are in pain, they say all kinds of things they don't really mean. I've seen it many times before." He turned his attention to the bedridden Roman to fill him in on why he was experiencing that level of discomfort. "Mr. Holiday, when they brought you in here last night, we treated you for bruised ribs and a moderate laceration to the head. We've got you on a mild antibiotic drip to fight off any possible infections because we don't know what it was that hit you and broke the skin. We don't expect you to have any side effects from the medication, but you will naturally suffer headaches and pain in your side while you are healing. You don't need to be alarmed if it doesn't go away altogether over the next few days; sometimes these things take a while to run their course depending on how hard the initial impact was. With each passing day, the pain should lessen until you wake up one morning and find it gone. In the meantime, you will need to be a patient patient." He winked in hopes his little joke would bring about some levity for the wounded man.

"Aarrgh, twenty comedians out of work, and we have to listen to this guy," Happius groaned to himself when the poor attempt at wit assaulted his ears.

"Great, that's just what I don't need," the invalid sighed, clearly not looking forward to the constant bed rest and unbearable pain that would be characteristic of the next few days. "Hap?" he mumbled as he reached over and feebly wrapped his fingers around his offspring's wrist.

"It's me, I'm right here," the youth smiled down at the patriarch.

"I want to see your mom; she's probably scared out of her wits right now."

"I can check and see if she's done eating and send her up when she is," was all Happius could think to promise.

"Go find her and tell her …" Experiencing a momentary lapse, the patient turned his head in the opposite direction from where Happy sat and rolled it back again. He released his hold on the lad's wrist and gave it as firm a pat as he could render. "Just … send her up as soon as you can."

"Take it easy, Pop, I'll get her." With that, Hap rose from his chair and breezed past the medical staff as he hurried out of the room.

Meanwhile, Laurie, Herman, and Henrietta sat partaking of some coffee at a round table in the rear left corner of the cafeteria, Laurie also forcing herself to choke down the unappetizing powdered eggs and dry biscuit that lay on her plate. By the time she consumed two thirds of the eggs and half of the biscuit, she loudly dropped her knife and fork against the earthenware plate and drew a heavy sigh, alternating her stares from the fare she hoped the patients didn't have to ingest to the couple who sat opposite her nursing their coffee that was so weak, they believed one would have to throw in mud to add color to it.

"Laurie, honey, you really should finish your breakfast and keep up your strength if you're going to do Gus any good once he's awake," Henrietta spoke in tones that were a blend of friendliness with a hint of patronization. "You know depriving yourself of food won't make him come to any faster."

Under the impression that this lady couldn't even begin to understand, Laurie thumped her right hand against the side of the plastic tray, the flatware jumping from the edge of the plate. "Henrietta, if it were Herman up there in that bed, you wouldn't even be able to look at disgusting hospital food, much less eat one single bite. I just don't have an appetite right now; all I want is to be there for Gus."

"Now don't you worry about ole Gus. It won't be long before he's conscious and griping about the hospital bills he will incur and how long he will be in debt while paying them off. Maybe he can take another temporary dishwashing job so he could take care of them. I'll bet he looks cute in an apron and rubber gloves, hehehehehe" Herman, known to be an obnoxious and tactless man at the best of times, managed to open his mouth and promptly insert his foot.

Experiencing memories of how Herman bragged up a storm in order to make himself look like Mr. Big Stuff around Gus, Laurie gave in to the stress she was under and let her wrath pour forth! "If you're about to call him a cheapskate or make fun of him, I'm leaving!" she shot back in defense of her husband, who would not have been able to fend for himself in his current condition. "Never mind; I'll spare you the trouble of insulting him and leave now!" With that, she angrily snatched what was left of her biscuit and stormed off in a huff!

"Nice going, big mouth," Henrietta scolded her spouse as she, while watching Laurie's rapidly departing form, delivered a sharp nudge to his ribcage. "You have a thing or two to learn about tact."

Gobbling up her biscuit as she hurriedly made her way back upstairs, Laurie found herself a mixture of emotions about to boil over. She felt increasingly frosted with the seemingly unsympathetic Herman while, at the same time, was about to burst with anticipation, for she sensed something was happening with Gus, though she knew not what that was. Had he regained consciousness, or had he taken a turn for the worse? The only thing her woman's intuition could tell her was that the atmosphere in that hospital room was not to be the same as when she left such a short time ago. For a moment, she mentally kicked herself for allowing Happy to send her away, even if he meant well and wanted her to put something on her stomach. She briefly borrowed trouble and wondered if Gus's head injury had proven to be worse than the doctor anticipated, resulting in the Roman's premature death; however, she allowed logical thinking to take over and silently chided herself for having entertained such a ghoulish notion. If Gus had passed away, Hap would have immediately fetched her from the cafeteria, most likely with tears in his eyes or a panic stricken expression darkening his young countenance. As she neared the nurses' station, she polished off the last revolting bite of that awful pastry and had a reunion with her old friend, the drinking fountain.

"Mom!" Happy hailed, seeing his mother sipping from the cold bubbling stream from several meters away. To her immense relief, he sounded neither panicky nor like his voice was about to be wracked with the sobs of a mourning teenager.

"Happy, what is it?" Laurie jolted upright, her back ramrod straight and drops of water falling from the corner of her mouth. She hastily wiped away the rest of the excess water with the back of her right hand. "Is something going on with your father?"

"He's awake and wants to see you. Come on!"

Like a woman possessed, Laurie whizzed by her son, who managed to be right on her heals by the time she made it into Gus's room. Realizing that only one visitor was allowed, Hap stood in the doorway, prepared to head for the waiting room should the doctor send him away, and Laurie threw herself into the chair, joyfully looking into Gus Holiday's now open eyes! "Gus, I'm right here, sweetheart. Are you all right?

"I am now," Gus managed a weak smile as he reached for his wife's hand and curled his fingers around it. He might have been feeling enough pain for two people, but Laurie's presence somehow made up for most if not all of that. "Don't worry about me; my head and side hurt like all get out, but I think I'll live."

"Oh, Gus," Laurie gushed before bending over and lightly smooching her husband's cheek.

"You gave us quite a scare, Mr. Holiday," dr. Checkius, following protocol, regretfully had to interrupt this marital reunion so he could document his patient's most recent memories while they were still as fresh as they could be in his mind. Normally, he would have posed these queries right as his patients were awake and coherent; however, Gus behaved in such a way that it didn't take a brilliant scientist to observe that he wouldn't cooperate until he could offer some assurance to his beloved wife that he was all right. "I realize you want to spend time with the missus, but I'm going to have to ask you some questions. It's standard procedure for all patients who have suffered head injuries such as yours. I'll keep this brief because you are still weak. First, can you tell me your name?"

"Augustus Holiday."

"Date of birth?"

"The fourth of September, AD 20."

"Who's the current Emperor?"

"Nero."

"Now, Mr. Holiday, I'd like to hear anything you remember about what happened to you last night during the wind storm."

"I went out to bowl a few games, but they were closing early because of the wind storm. Everybody was routed to the high school until it passed, but I thought I could beat the storm home since the winds weren't a big deal – at least not yet. Boy was I wrong. It got so bad, it was all I could do to stay in my chariot, so I thought I would go off the main road and stay in the shelter of the trees until I found my home or a safe place for the night. Something hit me; I was knocked out of my chariot; and everything went black. Then I got these flashes of being on the roadside again with a guy I couldn't see and some new guy from work, and that switched over to me being home with my son and nephew and that invisible guy again. Even now, he still is giving me the creeps whenever I think of him; every time I tried to get answers from him in the flashes, he'd keep repeating stuff that didn't make sense. . Then I found myself here."

"It sounds like you were having a nightmare, dear," Laurie observed. "Doctor, is it possible for people to have dreams while they're unconscious? Gus has been known to have vivid dreams at home."

"The mind is a very complicated instrument that doctors have yet to figure out. I can't say I have much knowledge as to whether comatose patients dream in the same way we do when we're asleep. Like I told you last night, Mrs. Holiday, we don't know for certain if a comatose patient can hear exactly what is said to them, but new research is beginning to show that most coma patients are described to be in a dream-like half-aware state, where they can hear what goes on around them but are in a twilight state, where the audio coming in is fed in to whatever they are experiencing and modifies it some way. In this case I can't be sure. Mr. Holiday, do you remember ever having ever been rendered unconscious before and if you ever had dreams during that time?"

"I remember one time when I was a teenager; I woke up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water. I didn't turn on any lights, and I tripped down the stairs. The next thing I knew, I was back in my bed with my parents and the doctor standing over me and telling me I was out for six and a half hours. Then when I was in my early twenties and had first joined the Roman Army, I was injured during a training exercise. One minute I was lying there on the ground; the next, I was on a cot in the medic's tent … eighteen hours later."

"It sounds like you go out like a light when you lose consciousness. You may still be able to sense when someone is talking to you on a subconscious level, but I highly doubt you are one of those patients who experience vivid dreams while in that condition."

"But if I go out like a light, how do you account for what I told you about the invisible guy I kept hearing between the time I got clobbered in the storm and now?" Gus began to panic, for the medic's theory had just shot into cureless ruin the only vestige of logical sense he had worked so hard to construct concerning the loving and mysterious presence.

"Settle down, dear; it's going to be OK," Laurie tightened her grip of Gus's hand in an effort to convey the slightest traces of comfort to the ailing man. "Doctor, are these dreams likely to happen again?"

"I highly doubt it, Mrs. Holiday. The dream Mr. Holiday reports to have had is most likely the same as any one would have while in natural sleep." Dr. Checkius examined the findings noted on the scroll at the foot of Gus's bed. "Of course the notes on his chart don't indicate that he, in fact, drifted into natural sleep prior to regaining consciousness." Turning his attention to Happius, who remained in the doorway, he queried, "Young man, did you see any changes in your father in the moments prior to his awakening … any rapid eye movements or other motor functions that would indicate dreams or bodily movements?"

"No, sir, all I knew was he was lying there so still and silent it was creepy; then he was suddenly slurring and moaning and trying to move."

"That would indicate Mr. Holiday did not experience natural sleep between unconsciousness and consciousness, further supporting he is the 'out like a light' type. Unfortunately, this might mean we'll never figure out why he had this apparent dream when he never experienced them the other times he was unconscious," Dr. Checkius postulated as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "I'm afraid this will have to remain a mystery."

"Just calm down and try to put it all out of your mind, sweetheart, that dream had to be just a fluke; I don't think you'll have to worry about any invisible people anymore," Laurie, having caught her true love's saucer wide eyes, cooed, slipping her hand free from Gus's and reaching over to lightly stroke his wavy hair. "All you need to do now is rest and concentrate on getting well so you can come home."

"How soon will that be?" Gus inquired of anyone in the room who might know the answer he was seeking.

"That's all going to depend on you, Mr. Holiday," Dr. Checkius smiled down on his patient. "I want to keep you in here for a day or two to monitor your appetite, progress and response to treatment. If all goes well, I should be able to release you either tomorrow or the day after. You'll still need to see me for outpatient follow up appointments so we can keep an eye on those ribs and monitor the head wound once we remove your stitches. Now, if I may ask, do you think you can take some breakfast?"

"Don't order the biscuit and eggs, Gus; they're so nasty it's a wonder the patients don't feel worse after eating them," Laurie's advice didn't go unheard by her hubby, who somehow remembered that was not a delicious meal by any stretch of the imagination the last time he was hospitalized.

"If the eggs are as bad as they were when I was in here with pneumonia a year and three months ago, I'll take anything else but those nasty things. If you still have that granola cereal, I'll take two bowls; that's just about the only breakfast food this place serves here that doesn't contribute to my high blood pressure or taste like bilge that even my gluttonous pet lion would turn down with disdain."

"I never knew a patient who actually liked the not so fine fare they offer here," Dr. Checkius laughed. "And what did you want to drink with that? Healthia can fetch it for you right now."

"Hmmm, since your orange juice doesn't have pulp; make it apple juice, two of them."

With a nod, Healthia smiled and flitted out of the room to retrieve the morning meal.

"Why did you order two of everything, dear?" Laurie was curious to hear why her barely conscious spouse requested so much food and drink. "Won't that be too much for you … although I shouldn't be surprised this is coming from a man who can eat three pounds of pretzels in the time it takes to watch an old movie on TV."

"Can I help it if I want to eat breakfast alone with my wife," Gus cracked a half smile.

"But I already ate."

"I'd feel better knowing you ate something that doesn't increase the risk of your ending up in here too." It was apparent that his injuries caused no damage to Gus's tendency toward sarcasm.

"Very funny."

While Happius sat in the waiting room with Herman and Henrietta, who had long since consumed their substandard coffees and come upstairs so Herman could apologize for his uncalled for remark to Laurie, Mr. and Mrs. Holiday partook of the granola cereal and apple juice in the privacy of his hospital room. They started out with Laurie's briefing Gus on the chain of events that had unfolded from the moment Herman phoned during the storm right up through her attending Gus upon his awakening. Neither party knew how they digressed and allowed the conversation to morph from last night's adventure to a trip down memory lane in which they reminisced of how they had eaten cereal and had drunk apple juice together on the first morning of their honeymoon and dreamed of how their lives would turn out when they were settled and started their family. For a brief moment, Gus wondered if all their lives would have turned out so much better if he had the chance to start over again from scratch. Realizing nobody could travel in time to rewrite the past and that a dramatic change in the nature of an emergency would be the only way to alter his and his family's path in life, the Holiday patriarch sighed and immediately recalled pleasant memories of how cereal and juice were not only the morning meal of choice during their days as newlyweds, but also on the mornings of both children's births.

To describe the next forty-eight hours as an eternity would have been an understatement as far as Gus Holiday could see. The constant bed rest and nursing care left him feeling so restless it was a wonder his sanity hadn't dissolved as quickly as a sugar cube would in boiling water. He knew full well he could walk and always was quick to protest when he had to be taken to and from the patient lounge in a wheelchair so he could participate in one of the planned activities or watch any sporting events on TV. The antsy patient was certain the activities were better suited for children in a summer camp, and his current state of mind prevented him from considering that some of the other patients were more severely injured than he was and likely could not partake in pastimes that were of a more strenuous nature. Though he maintained the viewpoint that the entertainment was beneath him, the claw of boredom constricted around him so tightly that he did consent to participate in the after dinner Bingo games in the lounge, managing to win one of the prizes that a wealthy anonymous donor had given to the hospital. He had no idea what to do with his newly acquired generous gift certificate for a camping supply store whose expiration date was six months off.

At last, Dr. Checkius examined Gus and found he was as ready for release as he would ever be, the discharge to be around lunchtime so Precocia and Happy, whose schools both happened to let out half a day early for one of the school board's prescribed teacher's paperwork periods, could be waiting at the hospital's front door to await that wonderful moment when their dad would finally make the short traverse to the home he knew and loved. Ironically, as he discarded his patient gown on the foot of the bed and dressed in his recently cleaned and over-starched toga the nursing staff had laundered the night of his arrival, Gus was so excited to be back in his own apartment that even landlord Evictus would be a sight for sore eyes! The consumption of far too much apple juice at breakfast time had proven to get to him, as he was finally ready to purge the excess liquid from his personage. Since Laurie and the doctor hadn't arrived yet, he stole a minute or two to relieve himself. Upon washing his hands afterward, he lifted his head, only to encounter an image in the mirror that caused a thousand swords of absolute terror to impale him through the heart and caused him to forget the annoying headache from which he was currently suffering. Frozen in his tracks and too paralyzed to speak, Gus simply gulped as he stared at the shadow on the other side of the looking glass. Something was terribly wrong, for the expression in his eyes clearly noted a profound emptiness and sense of incompleteness within him that he had never seen before. Those could not be his eyes staring back at him! Laurie's words from a few nights ago rang through his head, "…dead burned out shell of a man", and he knew immediately that his eyes reflected such a sentiment. Was she right, that he had deteriorated to a grouchy and downright miserable replica of her husband who was a prisoner to his own dissatisfaction with the life that never did turn out as he had planned since he started his small family? If this were so, how could he become free and, once again, be the husband and father the Holiday clan deserved? Such musings would have to be placed on hold for the moment, for Laurie's hail abruptly interrupted his train of thought as the words floated through the room.

"Gus, are you ready to go, dear?"

"Be right there, honey!" he called through the open door as he finished drying his hands and dropped the towel into the wash basin before striding out of the rest room and one step closer to his release from hospital care. "OK, let's get this show on the road. I'm ready for home cooking, comfortable furniture, and no more poking and prodding when I'm trying to sleep," he laconically spouted, addressing Dr. Checkius, who stood to Laurie's left with the discharge scroll and prescription card in hand.

"If I had a denarius for every patient who said that, I'd be richer than Nero," the doctor commented with a cockeyed smile. "Remember, Mr. Holiday, you have a follow up appointment in another four days so we can check under that bandage and see how well that head wound is healing. It is set for ten forty-five in the morning, and I gave Mrs. Holiday the appointment card while you were still in the washroom. I want you to take it easy when you get home; and since it takes about three weeks to a month for bone bruises to heal, no heavy lifting until further notice. We don't want you to damage those ribs. Fractures would have you laid up for an additional four to six weeks."

"Well that'll be a neat trick since I'm a construction worker," Gus pointed out, uncertain how he would carry on with his job with these restrictions imposed upon him.

"You may have to tell Mr. Tycoonius that you're under doctor's orders to do something other than lifting marble columns; after all, he's had you drafting up blueprints and supervising a few projects from time to time," Laurie suggested, running a finger through her hair and tucking an out of place lock behind her left ear.

"I can have a note drafted for you to give your boss in case he gives you any trouble; no job is worth jeopardizing your health," Dr. Checkius admonished his patient as he handed over the release papers to be signed.

"Just like in school when my parents had to send in a note to get me out of gym class after I rolled my ankle playing stickball in front of my house," Gus muttered as he scribbled his signature on the dotted line and passed it back to the doctor.

"Nobody ever promised that recovery from injuries was going to be easy or the patient's idea of a good time, Mr. Holiday. I know you're restless and want to get back into a normal routine as soon as possible and put all this behind you, but it's going to take time and patience on your and your family's part. This is for some prescription strength pain killers that should help with the ache in your side and any headaches you might experience." The health care professional slipped the card into Gus's outstretched right hand, and the forty-three-year-old offered a polite "Thanks for everything, doc" as Healthia entered the room with the wheelchair that, according to hospital policy, had to be utilized to transport the newly liberated fellow downstairs to the chariot, where Happius and Precocia anxiously awaited the head of the Holiday family.

"What's taking them so long," an impatient Precocia groaned, fidgeting from one foot to the other as she stood beside her big brother in the chariot they had recently reclaimed from the centurions for a small fee to recoup any money spent on feeding the horse and to cover the cost of overnight storage of the transport itself.

"I want to see Dad as much as you do, Precocia, but there's nothing we can do except wait for him and mom to come down. It might take a while if dad's not ready yet; he has to get dressed, sign the release papers, probably set up his next doctor's appointment, and argue for about fifteen minutes with the nurse that he's a big boy and doesn't need to leave in a wheelchair."

"Then we may be here until after suppertime," the little girl facetiously remarked with the roll of her eyes and a smirk running across her young features. Suddenly, she heard a pneumatic door swishing open from behind, and she turned to behold a sight that was well worth the long and arduous wait! "Here they come, hap!" With the sweep of her right hand, she indicated the approaching trio: Laurie, with her mate's cloak neatly rolled up and tucked under her left arm, and a very eager looking Gus Holiday riding in a wheelchair that was being pushed by none other than a beaming Healthia. "Daddy!" She gleefully called out as she unceremoniously jumped down and ran to meet her sorely missed father, who was coming to his feet as she approached to give him one of her very best hugs.

"Careful, sweetheart," Gus cautioned, stopping his daughter at arm's length and gingerly guiding her where to position her arms so she can hug him in the most comfortable way while he would be convalescing. "Daddy's going to be sore for a while; hug me this way, and it won't hurt, OK?" Following the father/daughter embrace, Gus heartily waved and rendered his warm thanks to the long suffering Healthia for all she had done for him while he was confined to bed – and for putting up with a "very impatient patient" as he put it. She returned the smile and cheerfully waved as the three family members boarded the chariot, Happius enjoying being entrusted with the adult responsibility of driving the clan home!


	4. Planting The Seed

Chapter 4 – Planting the Seed

"If you gotta start somewhere why not here; if you gotta start sometime why not now" – City On Our Knees by Tobymac

"Oooohhhh! Do they have to make so much noise?" Gus moaned, dropping his buttered blueberry muffin onto his plate and squeezing his still pounding head around the forehead and temples in a meager attempt to push back the pain that simply refused to cease. It had been two days since his follow up appointment and the removal of the protective dressing that encircled his head, and he found the headaches he suffered showed no signs of decreasing in intensity while, ironically enough, the pain in his still bandaged side was ebbing. "Clank clank clank, this is just as bad as it is at work. I feel like my head's going to explode."

"Well, golly, Dad, I'm sorry your head still hurts, but how else are we supposed to eat our pancakes? Picking 'em up with all that syrup all over 'em would be kind of gross," Happy commented, wanting to sympathize with his father but feeling there was no other way he and Precocia could partake of the messy meal without utilizing utensils that, unfortunately, would make noise upon contact with the plate.

"Happy and Precocia, why don't you take your breakfast into the living room so your father can finish up and get ready for work without having to worry about silverware making those headaches worse," Laurie suggested as she lay her hot honey bun aside, loaded the children's drinks and the syrup bottle onto a tray, and stepped toward the area of interest.

"Gee, Mom, we're not allowed to eat messy food in there," Precocia reminded her mother with a shrug of the shoulders.

"You are today." With that, the matriarch disappeared through the doorway in hopes her offspring would follow suit. In a moment, Happy and Precocia were settled comfortably in the living room, two TV trays set up before them as they perched on the couch to eat, and Laurie had returned to the kitchen to join Gus as they finished up their own morning meals. "Darling, have your pain pills kicked in yet?"

"Are you kidding?" Gus protested after swallowing a bite of his muffin and looking to his wife with weary eyes, "I might as well take sugar candy the way those stupid things aren't working."

"I don't understand why they aren't working for the headaches when your side seems to be feeling better," Mrs. Holiday sighed as she rubbed her chin.

"I asked the doctor about that, and he said that the blow to my head must have been harder than the knock to my ribs. My head felt like it was going to burst, and I wasn't in the frame of mind to question that; I just cared about getting out of there and getting some fresh air."

"Perhaps you should call Dr. Checkius and ask him to put you on something stronger so it will work on both your head and your ribs."

"What can be stronger than maximum strength, Laurie?" He grudgingly twisted the cap off the bottle, dumped two pale yellow tablets into his hand, shot them back, and washed them down with some orange juice. He then firmly pressed the bottle into her left hand and pointed out the label. "Look at this; it's as powerful as they can make it."

A flash of inspiration whizzed through Laurie's mind while she placed the pain relievers back on the far corner of the counter with all the family's supplements and medications. With a smile and a twinkle in her eye, she glided beside Gus and dropped some pills in front of his juice goblet. "Wait, I have an idea; it may not be much, but it should help a little bit. You finish up your muffin and take your vitamins and blood pressure medicine. I'll be right back." With that, she stuffed the last bite of her bun into her mouth and disappeared, momentarily reemerging with a dark blue bandanna she swiped from Happy's bedroom. She immediately prepared a bowl of ice water and left the cloth to soak in it much to Gus's curiosity. Laurie appeared to neglect this latest project when she proceeded to clear away the breakfast dishes and inquire of her spouse if he could commute to work this morning so she could have the chariot to run some errands. "I realize this means you have to run out the door in ten minutes, dear, but I figured you'd want me to pick up your laurel wreath and watch on my way home from dropping off our togas at the Laundromat and stopping for Brutus's flee medicine at the vet's office."

Gus, having just polished off his muffin and swallowed the rest of his pills, absently wiped his mouth with a portion of the morning scroll he hadn't read yet. "I can't believe that dingaling jeweler wants to charge ten dinars just to replace the sand," he groused with a loud thump of his left hand against the table top.

"That couldn't be helped; the sand was beginning to clump due to moisture getting into the glass and you knew you were about due to replace it anyway." With one fluid motion, Laurie scooped up the empty plate and goblet at the patriarch's place setting.

"Guess I'd better hurry up if I'm supposed to catch the next commuter chariot," Gus stated as he ejected himself from his chair and darted into the master bathroom to brush his teeth and run a comb through his hair. When he collected his lunch box and was about to make his exodus for another grueling day at the Forum construction Company, Laurie accosted him, holding the now perspiring bowl of icy water and the bandanna that was still sitting submerged within.

"Just a minute, Gus, I wanted you to be ready to go out the door before I put this on you. The colder it is, the better it works." With that, she slipped the bowl into his free hand, retrieved the sopping wet cloth, wrung out the excess water, and bid her partner turn around before firmly binding it around his head. "There. It may not be perfect, and you might have to soak it out several times a day, but every little bit helps." With a half smile, she took a second or two to quickly reclaim the bowl and deposit it onto the kitchen floor, an offering Brutus slurped up with great appreciation!

"Thanks honey," Gus expressed his gratitude, spinning around to meet his wife's eyes and give her a gentle kiss on the lips. The cold compress didn't eliminate the pain entirely, but it did make it bearable for the time being. "I'll see you tonight."

"Have a good day, sweetheart!" Laurie called after the departing construction worker as he swiftly exited for another long day on the job, one that would hold a hidden surprise for him before quitting time and the dinner hour approached.

Per Doctor's orders, Mr. Tycoonius obediently complied with the written guidelines and physical restrictions that Holiday had to abide by until further notice. Though he was far from pleased to have temporarily lost his best marble lifter, he also realized the permanent consequences that would result if his loyal employee were to push himself too far and become injured for life. Until the doctor gave Gus the go ahead to resume his physical labors, the blue collar man was assigned to supervise the rest of the men. If not for the turnover among the construction workers, the chance to supervise would have been seen as a terrific opportunity; however, with two of his former fellow laborers having to move away, his buddy, Al, getting a promotion within and ending up at a desk on a permanent basis, and another trusted confidant voluntarily transferring to the Egyptian office, it became necessary to acquire a whole new generation of workers who were all in their very early twenties if they were a day! Sadly, instead of respecting Gus's authority and wisdom gained from an adult life full of experiences to learn by, this team of prideful youths acted as though even the emperor should bow down to them, and any advice or orders Gus had to render weren't received without some sort of snide comments.

"Lunch break, everybody!" Following two loud blows from the noon whistle, Gus shouted the announcement to his co-workers, who wasted no time in voicing their resentment over the special treatment the recovering Roman appeared to have been given by their employer.

"All hail, Emperor Holiday has spoken!" a burley blond with dark blue eyes mocked as he finished setting up the marble column with which he was dealing, seemingly with little effort. "Tell me, Holiday, what's it like to be the boss's pet, getting everything you want, including a supervisor's job just handed to you on a platter that isn't worthy of being set before Nero?"

"Knock it off, Boastius, you know I'm under doctor's orders to avoid heavy lifting," Gus, refusing to make eye contact with the younger man, commented dryly as he retrieved his lunch box and headed for the water cooler to fill his thermos and resoak his headband.

"Maybe I should use a whole roll of toilet paper on my middle and see of ole Tycoonius will give me a sinchy job too," another guy with dark hair and the beginnings of a beard bluntly blurted out as he followed the older Roman, clearly not caring if he vexed him sorely.

Gritting his teeth and silently reminding himself that flying into a temper would do him no good, Gus wordlessly removed the top to his thermos and filled it to capacity with some cold refreshing water. He then worked the knot loose on his headband, wishing he could have used it to silence his annoying co-workers, but the decision still remained; over whose mouth would he have the honor of applying the gag?

"Forget it, Indignus, Holiday must have something on Tycoonius, that or he's just like some spoiled emperor's son sitting on his velvet throne," a muscular fellow with dark hair and deep brown eyes shot back, puffing himself up with the belief he was knocking the forty-three-year-old down a few pegs. "Of course, if he's got that sinchy job, he might soon have all the money that comes with it and finally be a real man and buy a house for his wife and kids."

"So we're back to that old broken record again, Belittlus?" Gus fought with every fiber of his being to remain on an even keel and not give these obnoxious brats the satisfaction of his anger. "Talk about having a one track mind."

"Admit it, Holiday, he's right, what family man keeps his wife and kids crammed together in a low cost apartment and doesn't take them on real vacations, not just a trip to Grandma's house for the weekend?" a lanky yet wiry, redheaded youth by the name of Razzius joined in the jibe session. "I'll bet that if you are ever able to take your missus to a restaurant for your anniversary, she would go into the kitchen and fetch the meals herself instead of letting the waitress bring them to the two of you since she's too used on waiting on herself. I sure feel sorry for her. The way you don't spoil her, it's a wonder you're still married."

"Shut … up," Gus growled in a low voice as he snuggly knotted the wet cloth around his head, his face beginning to turn beetroot red. It was bad enough that these jerks had to ride him on a daily basis, but picking on Laurie was overstepping the boundaries in his opinion!

"Can't take it, Holiday?" Indignus taunted, a smug grin crossing his fuzzy features.

"Look, I can put up with you guys ribbing me, but you start talking about my wife, and you're going too far."

"If you don't like it, you can always leave."

"You know, Indignus, that's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say," Gus snapped, slamming his thermos into his lunch box, not caring if he squashed his sandwich in the process, and stomping off to enjoy his lunch in peace.

"Going off the grounds to eat today, Mr. Holiday?" Kerria, Tycoonius' secretary who was on her way to the water cooler, queried as the irate Roman rushed by her.

"If anybody needs me, they can find me at the park; I'll be back before the lunch hour is over."

"Are the new men finally getting under your skin? I have to admit; I never thought you'd have been as patient with then as you'd been for this long."

"The woodpeckers in the park will be better company than those grade A number one inspected…" he quickly lowered his voice before uttering the description of his co-workers, a word that rhymed with "glass bowls".

Thankfully, the traverse to the park was a brief one that still afforded Gus enough time to leisurely partake of his lunch and prepare himself for the unpleasant return to the workplace and the far from amiable men with whom he was forced to labor on a daily basis. He had no sooner settled on a bench in the sunshine when a mid height and slightly heavy set stranger with a familiar face approached with his own lunch in hand, causing Gus's heart to hammer!

"Excuse me, don't you work at the Forum Construction Company?" he queried, approaching the bewildered Roman from the left just the same as he had done in the inexplicable vision Mr. Holiday had while rendered unconscious following his accident from the previous week.

The similarities between the recent revelation and reality proved to be too much for Gus, who sat staring wide eyed at his company, unable to utter a single word. What was he to do, just stay put and brace himself for the troubling oracles that were foreshadowed in the dream, or should he bolt from this fellow even if it roused suspicions that something was amiss. If he were to execute the former, he would possibly risk listening to more than he felt comfortable hearing about the Christian ways as he almost did in his dream; however, if he were to engage in the latter, how did he know this man wouldn't seek him out to find out what the matter was? Realizing that remaining silent would do nothing to improve his situation and hearing Claudius' words, "…give that thar Macius feller a chance" ringing through his head, he swallowed hard and extended a trembling hand to shake with the product of his déjà vous. "Gus Holiday."

"My name's Macius; I'm one of the new delivery guys; that's probably why you haven't seen me around … or have you?" Macius could not possibly ignore his companion's blanching face and wide eyes, two indicators that Gus was scrutinizing him with nervous fascination, though it was uncertain if the dumbstruck gentleman was gawking because he saw a phantom or a familiar yet forgotten face. "Are you OK, if I didn't know better, I'd think you had just seen a ghost."

Gus felt his pounding heart leap into his throat, and he frantically searched his mind for the right words to say so he could get his point across without losing face or causing Macius to take umbrage. "I … uh … had a very vivid dream and you are a dead ringer for someone in that dream. If I didn't know better, I'd have sworn it was you. Even your name is familiar." He hoped his answer was enough to explain his behavior without having to go into too much detail about the faceless and loving apparition whose memory still troubled him if he were to recall the visions in moments of solitude.

"Dreams can be like that. Sometimes they're just a mixture of stuff we see and hear every day, tossing around names and faces; other times, they're used by the Almighty to communicate with us while we're sleeping and unable to argue."

_Oh no, here we go, he's about to start spouting off all that strange Christian talk like he did in the dream,"_ Gus anxiously thought, the stress causing his head to feel as though it would explode, his headband ceasing to keep the pain at bay. "Macius, this might sound like a stupid question, but it's to do with that dream I just told you about. You wouldn't happen to call yourself … a … a Christian would you?"

"You're a brother?"

"Yeah, the older of two sons; Mark's three years younger than me."

"Hahahahahahahaha! I meant a brother in Christ!" Macius' hearty and infectious laugh did seem to settle Gus's nerves just a little. "That's what we call each other in the Christian family, brothers and sisters in Christ. Would you happen to be one too?"

"Far from it; I was asking because … well … you just talked about … I mean … in the dream … oh boy." Gus immediately slumped over and clapped both hands around his head, allowing his lunch box to tumble from his lap onto the ground at his feet.

Macius, a man given to the gift of intuition, sympathized with his new friend, whom he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, was not only suffering from a screaming headache, but from a sense of fear that was clearly the result of having heard the rumors that circulated around Rome about men of the Christian faith. It was no use arguing with him against the fact that the revelation Gus had apparently experienced was directly sent by Almighty God in order to begin opening him up to a whole new world full of blessings he couldn't imagine for the life of him! Of course the first hurdle was to break down the protective walls Gus's ignorance, pride, and fears had built around him, shielding him from all the awesome treasures he was meant to have for himself and his family. In order not to frighten this suffering soul away, he had to choose his words very carefully.

"Gus, the way you're sitting there with your head in your hands like that, I see you must be battling a terrible headache; would you mind if I were to say a prayer for your healing?"

Gus, a man never having been exposed to prayer and, therefore being totally unfamiliar with the concept, not to mention prayers for healing specifically, immediately popped upright and began to tremble all over like a wet cat positioned in the path of a chilly draft. "Wait a second, you'll cast no spell over me!" he protested.

"Haven't you ever had someone say a prayer for you before? It must be terribly frightening if you haven't. I can assure you that praying over someone is not casting spells on them; it's simply our way of talking to God."

"And this God has got to be the one who casts the spells. How does it work, by incantations or just raining down whatever on people?"

Macius had seen this before; far too many men fell victim to hearsay and would either hate or recoil from Christians, some risking being lost forever when they reached the other side of eternity. Intent on speaking his piece, he retrieved the fallen lunch box and opened it before plunking it back into Gus's lap and partaking of his own lunch. "Please bear with me, buddy, and let me explain. All I'm asking you to do is just listen to me for as long as it takes us to eat our lunches." Upon receiving a shrug of the shoulders and a reluctant nod from the good Mr. holiday, he continued, "I know it's easy to believe in all that stuff about spells and raining down blessings or curses, especially if you listen to all those rumors, but I can assure you that when we pray to God, we're talking to a loving spiritual entity who wants to help us and is patiently waiting for us to call out to Him in our hours of need and our times of gratitude. I am guessing that if you aren't' familiar with prayer, you might not know exactly who God is. He's the one who created our entire universe and everyone and everything in it. He set the stars in the sky, and He shows His creative ability everywhere we look … every time we see a sunset or hear the rolling waves on the shoreline, for no human could ever copy such work. Landscapes are perfectly set in a way that no human artist can possibly capture them in a painting or a sculpture. God lovingly made every man, woman, and child on this earth and not one is exactly like another. Since the very first snowfall, He has never made two snowflakes the same, and He knows things we will never know like the number of hairs on our heads. Another thing, when we are sick or wounded, we can ask Him for a healing touch from crown to sole."

"I thought it was the doctors who healed us. It was a doctor who patched up my injuries when I was knocked out during that wind storm," Gus objected after swallowing a bite of the meatball sub Laurie had packed.

"And who gave those doctors the knowledge and skills to treat you?"

"Their med school professors and experienced doctors who trained them in the field."

"But who gave those people the skills they needed to train the doctors? Who gave those doctors the endurance to successfully complete the training? We aren't just magically transformed into doctors, bankers, chariot drivers, or marble lifters just as soon as we leave our parents' home; God gifts us with the strength, endurance, and wisdom needed for the jobs He created us to do. God had everything planned out for us long before we were ever conceived and carefully knit together in our mothers' wombs. Because God is the creator of the universe, He is not confined to linear time as we are so He can see our entire lives unfolding, knowing our strengths, weaknesses, our achievements, and even our failures. He knows when we would be ready to take major steps in our lives, and He knows when we struggle with difficult decisions long before we are aware of them."

"How could anyone know about stuff that happens to us before it happens to us unless they're into sorcery? I knew it! This God of yours is into that spell casting junk!"

"I know it must be easy to believe that, especially for someone like you who never learned about God. This might be hard for you to swallow, but God hates sorcery and spells as much as you or I do. Let me see if I can explain God another way that you can relate to more easily. I see your wedding ring, so I know you're a married man, but please tell me, do you have any children?"

"Two, a teenage son and a daughter in grade school, but what's this to do with God?"

"Just bear with me; you'll see. When your children were born, what exactly went through your mind? How did you feel when you held those babies for the first time?"

"It was the most incredible thing that ever happened to me. First it's just Laurie and me; then she develops a big bulge and can't wait for the baby to be born; then I'm standing by her bedside in the maternity ward holding a squiggling baby boy who didn't exist an hour ago. I guess the word miracle is the only way to describe it, and I couldn't help loving that little guy with all my heart. It also hit me that it was up to me to make sure Happius … my son, had everything he would need to grow up into a thriving young man one day. I went through all of that again when Precocia came along, and I knew that that tiny girl was counting on me to look after and protect her until some handsome young man starts courting her, and asks me for her hand in marriage."

"So you felt an overwhelming wave of love sweep over you, love for those babies that you and your wife brought into this world?" Macius asked, swigging some cold water from his thermos.

"Well who wouldn't? Suddenly, there's a tiny baby lying in your arms, someone who you and your wife made, someone who belongs to you and is counting on you to meet all their needs."

"It's the same with God; He made us all, using our parents to bring us into the world. The very first set of parents that ever lived were two people named Adam and Eve, whom God created to care for this earth on which we live. I know this is a lot for you to swallow since you appear to have no foundation as far as God is concerned. Just think of Him as being another father who loves you, wants to protect you, and meets all your needs."

"My dad did all that for us … at least he did until he died in battle; then it was up to me to support the family after that because Mom's widow's pension wasn't enough to keep up with the bills and all our out of pocket expenses. Now, my brother is taking care of Mom and his wife and kids, and I have my own family to support."

"The good thing about God is He can't fall by sword, plague, or famine; and He can and does provide all of us with far more than our biological fathers are able to. It's hard to explain with black and white facts; it all boils down to trust. You have to trust that God is there, even if you can't see Him; you have to trust that He will provide you and your family with all you will need, even if it's not what you expect; and you have to trust that He will be your protector and guide."

"If you can't see God, how can you trust Him to provide for or protect you like our dads had done? That doesn't make sense."

"That's where faith comes in, Gus. Faith is simply a firm belief in something for which there is no tangible proof. We put our trust in God even if we can't see Him, and we believe in things he did long before we were even born such as creating the earth, the waters, the plants and animals, and even the first man and woman. I can see you are almost done with your food, so I will leave you with one last thing to think about. Do you have any baby pictures of you in your cradle or in your high chair?"

"There's one my mother has that comes with a funny story about how she was in the front room and turned around to find me apparently enjoying a song on a music box that was playing. Mom said I was about thirteen months old, holding onto the edge of the playpen and moving my feet like I was dancing. Dad's camera was sitting on the table, and she quickly snapped the picture before I stopped my performance to pursue other interests."

"Do you ever remember the playpen being built or bought, or did you just accept that it was there for your use, knowing without the proof that your father made or got it for you?"

"I don't know; I guess I just used it like all babies would and didn't give a second thought to where it came from. For all I knew when I was a little kid, it just appeared out of nowhere."

"You said you have a younger brother, did you ever remember seeing him using it?" Upon receiving a nod from Gus, whose mouth was full of a bite of his sandwich, Macius continued in hopes of getting through to this challenging companion. "When you found out your father built or bought it, did you just accept it despite the fact you didn't see him doing the work or bringing it home from the store?" Macius queried after swallowing a bite of his pizza.

"I guess; I didn't have to see Dad build the furniture to know it was there. Mom said he built it, and that was good enough for Mark and me."

"That's very much what faith is like; you don't see God in the act of creation, nor do you see Him in the same way we see each other. We simply believe with every fiber of our being that He is there, that He did create everybody and everything around us, and that's good enough for us."

"You mean you believe in this God like you're a little kid?"

If Macius had witnessed a miracle from Heaven above, he couldn't have been more excited, for he believed with his heart of hearts that he was beginning to penetrate the protective fortress that didn't shield his companion from witchcraft, but from a life filled with abundant blessings from none other than God Himself! He wisely held his own emotions in check while Gus took a drink of water, and he wouldn't even bother to resist the urge to smile.

"Gus, you've hit the nail on the head; that's exactly what it's like! The apostle Matthew reported that Jesus Christ the Messiah said unless we change and become like little children, we will never enter the kingdom of heaven'."

"Jesus Christ?" Where had Gus heard that name before? He wracked his brain for the answer, as he somehow came to the realization that he had to have heard it in his youth but was unclear when. Sometimes he'd catch bits and pieces of the evening news on the radio or what his father read to the family from the news scrolls. It wasn't until he was around Happy's age when he really gained an appreciation for the news coverage; before that, the written and spoken articles were nothing but a disjointed jumble of names, dates, and events that wouldn't bear the same meaning for a young boy whose only aspiration was to grow up into a man like his father. If Jesus Christ's name wasn't brought up in the news broadcasts, did a respected adult from Gus Holiday's childhood know him? One thing was certain; this was not the first time Gus was to have heard someone mention this significant name! "Why does that name sound familiar? Who is this guy?"

Macius felt his heart begin to hammer, either from fear that one miss placed word would frighten Gus away for good, or excitement over the possibility that the Roman's curiosity would be the ice breaker he was looking for so he could hope to enlighten him over the course of many more lunch hours. He dared not douse the sparks of interest that promised to flare up into the fires of passion one day, so he silently petitioned to his Creator to provide him with the right words to say without the risk of Gus shutting down.

"Trust me, buddy, to properly explain Jesus Christ and all he'd done for us during his lifetime would take several more lunch hours. Since we don't have a lot of time before we have to head back to work, I will leave you with something to think about. Chew on this; as I said, God is like a parent we can't see with our eyes or hear with our ears, but He's there just the same. Jesus was His son whom He allowed to appear in human form for a brief time to put things right between us and God."

"Put things right; I'm confused. First, you say God is loving as all get out; then you say things aren't right between us and Him? Which is it?"

"Haven't you and your father gotten into arguments, or have you and your son had a row or two? How many times did your mother or wife have to barge into the argument to maintain order?"

"What fathers and sons haven't mixed it up with each other? All families have their fights, leaving someone to clean up the mess."

"But you still love each other. Maybe you don't like something your son does, but you never stopped loving him. God is the same way; He might not like what we do when we do something wrong, but He never quits loving us, lest He be a liar and lose His credibility. Just like your wife might intervene for your kids when they get into trouble, and she thinks you might have handed down a punishment that was too strict; Jesus intervened for us with God to stop us from receiving a harsh punishment. This will bear more explanation for another day, especially since I realize all this is very new to you; but just remember that Jesus came to us for a very special purpose that would ultimately improve our lives. Just know that Jesus was a very good and loving person with a heart for the weak, the wounded, the lost, those whom the rest of the world would cast aside like flotsam."

Gus's mind spun like a whirlwind; for this was a lot of information to digest; and the questions were beginning to build up in his brain, questions that could not be safely posed anywhere else but on this bench with this particular fellow. Sadly, time grew short, so those queries had to go unanswered for now. For a moment, he still wondered if Macius would cast a spell over him; however, memories of the words of wisdom spoken to him in one of his dreams came slamming into the forefront of his mind!

"… do not fear Macius. Listen to him, and all will go well with you," the words of the faceless apparition impaled his brain like a sword stabbing directly through a foe's heart! Now, in a waking state, the specter found ways to communicate with Gus, and the grounded marble lifter realized he could no longer resist the tug at his heart and mind; however, he knew not what to do about these new found stirrings. This uncertainty stuck with him for the remainder of the lunch hour – maybe even the rest of the day, and he did his dead level best to suppress his state of mind, lest he incur more unwanted ribbings from the rest of the laborers upon his return to the construction site.


	5. What Was And IS And Is To come

Chapter 5 – What Was And Is And Is to Come

"The dream's alive with my eyes open wide." – Made To Love by Tobymac

The words from the lunchtime conversation he had with the kindly Macius continued to swirl around and around through Gus Holiday's troubled mind like a cyclone, but true to form, he did manage to keep his emotions and distracted state of mind under tight wraps so he would not receive any flack from the co-workers with whom he knew he would never get along. This frame of mind remained with him throughout the day and lasted long into the evening, as he was uncharacteristically quiet through supper and even failed to pay attention to the sporting event he was watching on TV after the evening dishes had been washed and put away. Alarm bells sounded off in the family's minds when Brutus sauntered beside the patriarch and, receiving no reprimands from his master, scarfed down an entire bowl of pretzels, save two lone pieces Gus absently nibbled in the course of five minutes.

"Gus, are you all right, dear? You seem to be out of sorts tonight," Laurie expressed her concern after her eyes panned from the empty pretzel bowl to the far away expression that darkened her spouse's visage.

"Just another screaming headache, sweetheart. I'll probably sleep it off," he half fibbed, for he did battle a headache, but found the noontime discourse in which he had engaged with Macius simply would not leave him alone, taking the spotlight from the physical pain.

"Gee whiz, Pop, maybe you should call the doctor tomorrow morning and tell him the medicine still isn't working." Happy, expressing genuine concern for his father, suggested as he crossed the living room so he could phone Groovia and ask if he could leave his drums over at her house until Gus was over the headaches. Since his dad's release from the hospital, he hadn't been able to practice and keep his skills sharp on the percussion instruments, and he was certain he needed to get back into his routine, lest his talent grow rusty.

"Do you think the pills are bad, Daddy?" Precocia, who had been sewing on a light weight powder blue toga she planned to wear to summer camp this year, queried, momentarily looking up from her project. "Don't some medicines lose their strength if they're too old? You may just need to exchange it for a fresher bottle."

"If that were the case, honey, my side wouldn't feel any better; it's just the headaches that won't go away," Gus kindly refuted his daughter's theory with a shake of the head and a shrug of the shoulders. He realized his family was just trying to be helpful and supportive; however, he was often troubled with the highly illogical ever present discomfort that pounded through his head while his bruised ribs responded well to the medication.

"That doesn't make sense; how can the pain pills work on only some of the places that hurt while leaving others alone? They're supposed to find the areas that are in pain and relieve them all. It's almost as if the pills have a mind of their own … or some mysterious outside force is blocking them from your head while letting them through to your side."

"Oh, Precocia, that's silly, how can pills decide for themselves what part of the body they will cure and what parts they won't?" Laurie corrected her offspring, scooping up the empty pretzel bowl so she could wash out the lion slobber and refill it if that was Gus's desire. "And there is no way any outside force could control the medicine's effectiveness; medicine is just a mixture that can't think for itself and does what it was made to do."

"But how do you explain what's happening to Daddy?"

"Sometimes things just happen, and we will never know why. Take what happened to your father when he was unconscious. The doctor still doesn't know why he had dreams while in that state."

Oh no, not those dreams again, Gus thought to himself as he swallowed hard and clumsily untied his headband for the umpteenth time that day so he could soak it yet again in a feeble attempt to quell the headaches that seemed to take up permanent residence with him. As if it wasn't bad enough he had to battle perpetual headaches and deal with the intriguing, yet unsettling, conversation he had with Macius, he now had to concern himself with reminders of the troubling visions he had while still comatose. Little by little, all vestiges of dominion were ebbing, and this sensation was far from his comfort zone, for he, still seeking control over his life at all costs as he had to do while in the Roman Army, now had to deal with circumstances beyond his own powers to utilize in the way he felt was best for himself and his family.

Wordlessly, he slipped out of his chair and disappeared into Happy and Precocia's bathroom to wet down his bandanna. As soon as the compress was cool enough for him, he stood upright to secure it with a square knot at the back of the head; however, something had grabbed his attention when he caught his image in the mirror! There it was again, that reflection of emptiness and sense of incompleteness that greeted him on the day of his discharge from the hospital! The reminder that he was not free from what he believed to be people's expectations and life's disappointments that held him in bondage stared back at him, and he could see the color draining from his face with each passing second!

"Dead burned out shell of a man," Laurie's words again, echoing in his mind, not allowing themselves to slip from his memory.

"…be a real man and buy a house for his wife and kids." Belittlus' cruel jibe lanced through Gus's mind like a sharp sword.

"Augustus, I am here for you; I love you deeper than any ocean and higher than any mountain," As if played through a recording, the beneficial specter's words floated through Gus Holiday's brain, causing him to freeze in his tracks, for this was the second time he'd heard the voice while fully awake! He dared not question the presence's identity at this precise moment, not even in a theatrical whisper, for the onset of insanity was not the impression he wanted to leave upon his family. If this being cared for him so much, why would he remain invisible and not appear alongside Gus to convey this love and comfort? Was this the God the Christians believed in, the one Macius said was another parent that could neither be seen with the eye nor heard with the ear?

"OK, I'm just tired and those dreams are surfacing," Gus tried ardently to construct some semblance of logical sense out of the confusion that closed in around him as the tin girdle had tightly constricted around his middle on that occasion where he attempted to pass himself off as a teenager in order to provide Evictus' unpopular daughter with a prom date and, therefore, save his apartment. With white knuckled hands, he gripped the marble countertop, his back so tense he was certain it would snap like a brittle twig that was ready to be cast into the blazing furnace.

"Augustus. Do not fear what you do not know; I will not let you fall." There it was, that voice resounding through his tortured brain yet again and replying to him as if the owner could read his mind! Why wouldn't it just let him be? If the bearer of this voice was there for his welfare, why trouble him so? "Am I not commanding you, be of great courage and heed the words of those who care for you. Then all will go well with you." Obviously, this stubborn specter had no intension of leaving him alone!

Reaching the conclusion that he could not remain confined to his children's bathroom for the rest of the night, Gus tightly screwed his eyes shut, briskly shook his head, and swallowed hard in hopes of erecting an emotional fortress around himself. Standing stock still, he slowly opened his eyes and willed his racing heart to return to a normal rate before examining himself in the mirror to see if all vestiges of preoccupation had faded and made way for a mask of feigned fearlessness. The way he was feeling, a sympathetic wife and children kindly prying into his business was just what he didn't need at this moment! Drawing a heavy sigh, he gathered his wits about him and exited the washroom.

"Hey, Pop, Groovia said I can take my drums over to her house; can I borrow the chariot? I promise I won't be long," Happy quickly accosted his father as he reentered the front room and voiced his request.

"Nothing doing, son, it's a school night. You can take 'em over tomorrow after school. Then if you're going to stay over there to practice, just be sure to call your mother to let her know if you'll be late coming home."

"Awww, come on, Pop, it's not like I'm going to stay there for long tonight; I just wanted to drop the drums off; I promise I'll be home before ten."

Reluctantly, Gus gave in to his offspring, rendering his reply with a casual wave of the hand and a reserved tone of voice. "I'm holding you to that, Happy. If you're overdue without calling first, you're grounded through the weekend. I know that sounds unfair, but there's a reason Mom and I insist on you and your sister not staying out late on school nights. You don't want to be snoring up a storm in class the next day, do you?"

"Golly, I fall asleep in Latin class just once, and I'll never hear the end of it," Happy muttered under his breath as he retreated to his bedroom to retrieve his drum set. Apparently, the consequences of a friend's late night birthday party and his failure to phone home on a school night would dog him for the remainder of his high school career if the adults in his life could help it.

For the rest of the night, Gus passed off his odd behavior as a composite of fatigue and headache related pain; however, his family believed none of it and were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt there was something more to his conduct, yet they wisely held their tongues since the patriarch appeared unwilling to talk about what ailed him. It was no use trying to extract any personal information from Augustus Holiday when he was not ready to share it; any interested parties had to tread water in the pools of curiosity until the Roman saw fit to disclose the answers they sought. Sometimes this task was executed with minimal effort on the friend or family member's part, as it was for Happius to get a confession out of his father when he was torn between encouraging Precocia's musical talent by attending her very first recital and bowling anchor for the company bowling team in order to keep his job. Then there were other times, it would be easier to stuff windblown feathers back into a pillow than to coax the words from Gus's mouth. This was the case when he, alone, bore the burden of the possibility of eviction should he win the Father Of the year contest, taking the honor from Evictus, who refused to renew the lease until victory was his by either Gus's withdrawing from the election or by grabbing votes any way he could.

The ten O'clock hour quickly approached, and since this was a weekday night where father and children had work and school respectively, the entire holiday clan were either in bed, as was the case with Precocia; or they were preparing to retire for the night. Happy managed to arrive home three minutes prior to his curfew, thus escaping going on restriction. Everybody brushed their teeth and changed into their night clothes before slipping into their rooms and snuggling down for the night. All of them would rest peacefully; however, more was in store for the slumbering head of the Holiday household than a seemingly dreamless sleep!

It was just as he had remembered it from his youth; the house in which Gus Holiday resided from birth to his coming of age had not changed a bit, from the homemade furnishings his father built from scratch to the aroma of fresh flowers his mother had set on every table to add color to the home. The view through the windows of the bedroom he shared with his younger brother revealed that dusk was upon the land, and supper would be ready soon enough.

"Hey, squeak-monster, Mom says for you to bring in more wood for the stove," blond haired, freckle faced youngster, Marcus, "Mark" Holiday burst into the room, quite pleased with himself over the jibe he shot his big brother's way.

Laying his nearly completed social studies homework among the pile of issues of _Chariot And Driver Magazine: Whip And Wheels Weekly that sat in the far left corner of his desk_, Gus, now seeing everything through the eyes as a pre-teenager again, rose from his chair and whirled around to meet his sibling's eyes. "Remind me to give you a hard time when it's your turn to go through this, duphis," he firmly countered, his voice clearly beginning the process of dropping as was customary for all boys who were growing into manhood. "Remember, I pay back with interest." He had already shot up six inches inside of a year, and he was not done growing yet. To add insult to injury with his bean pole body that had yet to be filled out with muscle, his voice had begun to change early, thus making him excellent fodder for his little brother's endless digs! Of course vengeance was his as he breezed by Mark, stopping only long enough to deliver a noogie that was none too gentle!

"You barf-head, I'm telling!" Mark shouted, running after Gus as he started down the stairs.

"Get real, booger-face!" Gus loudly commented once he was clear of the bottom step. If you want to live to see age ten, you'll keep your yap shut!"

"Boys!" Kara Holiday, a short and stocky salt and pepper brunette, sternly addressed her sons as she turned her attention from the stove, tracing her right index finger along the top of her apron pocket. She could hear the children squabbling all the way from the rooms upstairs, and she was in no mood to play referee with dinner to prepare and her mind already occupied with what she had heard on the radio news broadcast while Mark and Gus were busy completing their homework so they would have the latter half of their weekend free to do as they pleased. "How did it start this time?" she queried with an exasperated sigh as the boys entered the kitchen.

"Gus gave me a noogie!" Mark wined in hopes of gaining his mother's pity and causing his big brother to incur the full punishment while he walked away with no consequence.

"It wouldn't have happened if he hadn't started making fun of the way I talk, Mom. I can't help how I sound."

"I can't wait until you start getting zits like some of the other kids in your class! Man, that Hammus Terrificus sure doesn't look his name. What a pimple puss!"

"You are such a geek-loser! Maybe I should call drippia and tell her you like her!"

"Yuck, girl cooties! Take it back, stupid!"

"Make me, barbarian brain!"

Kara felt her ire spike higher and higher with each argumentative oration that spewed forth from her children's resounding voices, and she knew something had to be done immediately! Grabbing the potato smasher from the drawer next to the stove, she pounded the cutting board, the noise that resulted when the instrument made its connection sounding like a thunder crack that would put the most formidable Roman to flight! This worked like a charm, for the Holiday brothers ceased and desisted in a heartbeat, their wide eyes affixed to their mother, who was clearly not playing any games.

"Now you did it, idiot central; we're in trouble," Mark hissed as he punched Gus in the arm.

"You're the one who started it, ya little snot. We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't made fun of my voice."

"Enough! The way you two go at each other, you will put your father and me in an early grave! Augustus, you need not to be so sensitive about the changes you're going through; they're normal, and you will look and sound more like a man before you know it. Getting defensive will only make things worse for you. You'd better go outside and get some wood for the stove, so I can finish cooking dinner tonight, or it would mean no Laurie's birthday party tomorrow." Kara Holiday, a strict but loving mother, laid down the law and expected nothing less than immediate obedience from her two boys. If she had to stop the rowing and get the chores done by threatening to keep Gus from attending a birthday party to which he had been looking forward for weeks, then so be it! Laurie Anthony had invited the elder of the Holiday siblings to the afternoon gala of roller skating, pizza, and ice cream, and she made it no secret on whom she had a crush! Though she was circa two years his junior, a rather large age difference in the eyes of children, Gus too held a special place in his heart for her, believing that when they reached the age where the difference meant nothing, he would ask her to share his family name forever! There was something about this special little girl, something his child's mind couldn't grasp; however, his heart held out the hope that both of them would stand a chance when they finally became old enough to begin the teenage dating process.

Mark began to make loud kissing noises into the air, receiving a dirty look from the older boy that clearly said to expect payback when it was least expected.

"That's enough, Marcus, you would be well advised to remember that the way you treat your brother now will determine if he is your best friend or worst nightmare when it's your turn to start growing into a man. Believe it or not, when you reach his age, girls won't seem as yucky to you anymore. Now, go and set that table for four unless you would like an earlier bedtime for the next couple of nights; there's been a change in plans, and your father is coming home tonight." Kara was no respecter of her sons; if they were both seen or heard squabbling, they both would receive punishment if they didn't get a grip on their behavior.

"Yes, ma'am," Mark sighed, both for having been rendered the silent threat from his older sibling and for having been given only a choice between the boring task of setting the table yet again or having to accept a temporary bedtime that would leave him exiled to his room while the night was still young.

"Wait a second, Pop's coming home tonight? His month isn't up yet," Gus observed as he briskly walked passed his mother to collect the leather used to carry in the fire wood. For as long as he could remember, his father, Cicero Holiday, was in the Roman Army Reserves, spending one month out of every Spring as an armor bearer while living at home as a blacksmith for the remainder of the year.

"From what I understand, he was injured yesterday morning, and an armor bearer with a sprained wrist is useless to the outfit. He's served faithfully for twenty years with an exemplary record, so they told him they were granting him a furlough. Unfortunately, he won't be able to work at the stable either, not until the splint comes off. I'm sorry to tell you this, Gus, but until he's back to work, we're going to have to really watch our dinars if we're to keep up with our bills, and that will mean packing your and Mark's lunches instead of letting you buy them at school; and it's going to mean relying on your scroll route money if you and your brother want to buy anything for yourselves until your father can afford to give you your allowances again."

"Man, what a drag."

"I know it's disappointing, dear, but it's only going to be for a week or two at most. Then your dad should be rid of the splint and able to get back to work. He's lucky it wasn't his strong hand that was sprained."

"You really must be missing him like crazy and going out of your mind knowing he hurt himself … otherwise why would you be crying?" Gus noticed his mother's tell tale swollen, red rimmed eyes and figured the loneliness was really getting to her as it often did when army life forced the couple apart, and it didn't help that she had her hubby's wounded extremity to deal with on top of that.

"Oh … yes, I am, son," she attempted to bluff, not wanting to let on that it was the events from the news broadcast that had caused her distraction and flooded tear ducts. How could two boys who were not yet old enough to touch razor to cheek possibly understand the gravity of what some anchorman announced on the five O'clock news? They were still far too young to truly appreciate it as she did.

The arrival of the Holiday patriarch and the consumption of the evening meal blended together in a blur, for the next thing Gus knew, he was packing his now completed social studies and mathematics homework scrolls into his school bag and decided to reward himself with a couple of his mother's home made short bread cookies and a tall glass of lemonade to wash them down. He hurried down the stairs, left his bag beside the front hall closet so he would be sure to grab it on his way out Monday morning, and was about to duck into the kitchen when he overheard the rather solemn discourse in which his parents were engaging.

"It's just so upsetting; the reporter said he didn't do anything wrong like the other two, but they still crucified him. All I could hear on the radio about him was he was some sort of teacher, and his name was … well, I can't remember, but I think it started with a J," Kara choked out her words before loudly blowing her nose into her hanky. "Since when has teaching become a crime that is punishable by death?"

"Honey, there's a lot the radio doesn't know, and I'm not certain if we'll ever hear the answers to all the questions that are floating around. All I can tell you is this man they put to death … Jesus Christ … did get a lot of people stirred up, especially the Pharisees … Since I'm a lowly armor bearer, I'm not kept in the know about everything so am not exactly sure what he talked about, but I do know it attracted a lot of people's attention."

"But you were serving in Jerusalem, so surely you had to have heard something in passing."

"Since yesterday morning when I had that fall, I was out of my head with pain because of this darn wrist; I don't think I was in the state of mind to concentrate on what was going on around me; and even if I was fully alert and informed, I wouldn't be allowed to talk about it with civilians. The Roman Army likes to keep a tight lid on stuff like this. My advice to you, Kara, is to just try to put it out of your mind. What's done is done, and they can't undo what they did yesterday even if they wanted to." Cicero could be heard giving his distraught wife a loud smooch on the cheek before his heavy footfalls marked his exodus from the kitchen. He, with his left hand bound up in a splint, emerged through the doorway and met his first born at the half way point between the kitchen and the foot of the stairs. Noting the expression that colored Gus's features, he quickly wiped the pensive expression from his visage. "I trust you heard some of what your mother and I were just talking about in there, hadn't you, son?" Upon receiving a nod from the twelve and a half year old, he continued with pretty much the same advice he rendered to Kara. "Now, I'm going to tell you the same thing I told your mother; it's nothing you need to worry about; just put it out of your mind."

"It had to be pretty bad if mom's crying-" Gus began, knowing full well it would take either extremely good news or a tragedy of mammoth proportions to reduce Kara Holiday to tears.

The Roman soldier grimaced and mentally pushed the events from the last two days to the back of his mind. There was no doubt that he wanted to just forget what happened, but he knew he likely wouldn't. "Augustus Holiday, that's enough out of you, young man," Cicero interrupted sternly, deciding to take the firm but fair approach and stabbing his right index finger toward his son as a warning gesture. "I told you it's nothing you and Mom should concern yourselves with, so it's no use talking about it anymore. Now, unless you want to be grounded, the matter is closed, understand?"

"Yes, sir," the lad gulped, scuffing his sandaled heal along the floor. His pre-teen status surely commanded he show his father unconditional respect and honor his warnings whether he understood or not. He did suspect something was up but wisely held his tongue.

"Now, did you want me to quiz you on your Latin; is that why you came down." The formidable six foot three inch graying blond queried, his voice no longer sounding authoritative but very kind.

"Uh, I wasn't thinking about that. I just finished my math and social studies junk, and I wanted to get some cookies before Mark inhales them all."

"Well, I'm glad to see you got most of your homework done already; all you have left is the Latin?"

"Yes," the student intoned somberly.

"I'll tell you what, son, when you're done eating, you can go up and study your Latin scrolls, and I'll quiz you in about half an hour. I know you probably think it's useless because you flunked last semester, but you can still bring that grade up and avoid having to miss camp and go to summer school."

_Summer school, those words don't mix … like oil and water or flint and steel,_ the youth silently murmured before making direct eye contact with his parent and voicing his feelings about having to study Latin. "Pop, I stink at it," he protested with the shake of the head

"Just because you don't have a facility for languages doesn't mean you can't wind up with a decent grade for the year. I think you can do it; it won't be easy, but I have a feeling you can pull it off if you can get passed your fears of failure and really set your mind on passing that class."

"What makes you so sure, Pop? Besides, it's just a duphis class anyways."

"Son, these classes are just as much a commitment for you as my job is for me. Someone expects you to do the job they set before you, and you will have to do it or bear unwanted consequences. If you don't do your schoolwork, you'd have to repeat whatever class it is instead of going to camp; if I fail to do my job, I would get fired and have to find another way to support this family. We have our responsibilities and our honor to consider if we're to ever make it in life. We Holidays have always had our honor, and when a member of our family sets his hand and mind to do something, he does it with every fiber of his being and to the best of his ability. I have never known any of our relatives to go back on a promise or to give up on any undertaking before all avenues are completely exhausted."

Knowing he would go nowhere fast if he made the smallest attempt to resist Cicero when he started talking of family honor, Gus agreed to the help session his dad offered before father and son each looped one arm around the others' shoulders and gave a quick squeeze. The pre-teen then entered the kitchen where he helped himself to some cookies and lemonade while Kara stacked the last of the clean dishes back into the cupboard.

Suddenly, the kitchen from his childhood faded away, returning Gus to his bedroom where he reached over and gently touched his wife's warm form. She twitched slightly but didn't awaken from her deep sleep. When his mind came to full consciousness, he sat up in bed and rested his chin in his right hand. Why had he remembered those few fleeting moments from boyhood? Was it to do with Jesus, the one Macius spoke about? What could have happened to cause his mother to get all teary-eyed over a radio news article? Why would his father be so quick to dismiss the subject when approached by both Kara and Gus? How did this brief trip down memory lane connect with his present?

Knowing he would only drive himself bonkers if he continued to wrack his brain, Gus decided to do as he always did when afflicted with insomnia, raid the cookie jar in hopes the midnight snack would help him clear his thoughts and sleep peacefully through the rest of the night. Quiet as a mouse, he crept into the kitchen, only to find the cookie jar lying on its side on the countertop, one lone cookie resting within while the rest of its companions lay broken on the floor waiting to be devoured by a lion whose appetite wouldn't quit!

"I should have known you'd get into the people food once we were all asleep, Brutus. You know, our horse doesn't eat this much. If they ever come out with a job that a pet lion can do, I'm applying you for it to help offset our food bill," he scolded his animal companion in a stage whisper so he would not disturb the rest of the family.

_Grumble grumble, snort, grumble._ Brutus expressed his disdain for such a notion as his having to engage in any form of labor. He murmured and openly exhibited how annoyed he was the entire time he assisted Gus when they spent those long nights washing dishes at Ignasius' restaurant to pay off some debts, and he knew he would hate any other job he was set to do! The position he was offered with the circus was more of a curse than a blessing in the animal's eyes, and he only wanted to be a crazy, lazy pet for the rest of his life. He cast a dirty look as best as a lion could at his master before turning his attention back to the pile of broken home made snicker doodles that were destined to wind up in his stomach.

After consuming the only snicker doodle to survive the little attack, Gus washed it down with a couple swallows of milk which he glugged directly from the jug and then proceeded to park himself in his favorite chair in the living room, still bugged by the flashback to his youth, his conversation with Macius, and how they could have possibly tied together. Macius described Jesus as a man of reconciliation while the childhood memory revealed him as some kind of unorthodox teacher and executed prisoner. Where oh where was the connection? Cicero Holiday had to have known something but refused to disclose it with his family; he just had to, for why else would he have dismissed the subject so quickly whenever the conversation came up. Didn't Gus, at age twelve, overhear his father even mention the name of Jesus in passing? Suddenly, his late father's words came slamming into his brain like catapulted projectile whizzing through the air!

"… This man they put to death … Jesus Christ … did get a lot of people stirred up …"

Upon hearing the revelation echoing through his mind, Gus froze in his chair, his heart hammering in his chest so fiercely that he wondered if he was about to suffer a cardiovascular episode! Willing his racing palpitations to slow to a normal pace, he drew in some deep breaths and swallowed the anxiety induced lump that formed in his throat. His sentiments confirmed, Gus believed with every fiber of his being that Cicero had to be connected to Jesus somehow; and he couldn't help wondering if Kara wasn't the only one deeply troubled by the events that transpired in Jerusalem circa thirty-one years ago. Because he hadn't paid attention to news coverage as a boy, and because his parents didn't talk about Jesus to him, Gus decided that he had to step out of his comfort zone and pose some questions to Macius at lunchtime tomorrow. Resolving there was nothing more he could do until then, he softly slipped back into the master bedroom, silently slid beneath the covers, and wearily collapsed onto his pillow in hopes of snoozing through the rest of the night. Unhappily, such hopes were dashed to smithereens, as his body was all too happy to rest; however, it was his mind that chose to stay up. True to Murphy's Law, nights such as this would precede a very active day where sleep deprivation and high levels of fatigue would not be acceptable at work or home. Why, oh why couldn't he have had his sleepless nights to be proceeded by a morning in which he could indulge himself with the luxury of staying in bed a couple hours more? Though he was no stranger to insomnia, this was one night when he would just as soon not be afflicted with the familiar condition.


	6. A Healing Touch

Chapter 6 – A healing Touch

"Please don't fight these hands that are holding you. My hands are holding you." - By Your Side by Tenth Avenue North

Gus's normal wake up time of seven thirty couldn't come soon enough, as he suffered from broken slumber since his return to bed the previous night. To his chagrin, every time he was certain sleep would claim him, his mind suddenly decided to stew over either his boyhood memory or his recent conversation with Macius about God and Jesus Christ. On one or two occasions, he willed his mind to focus on something relaxing such as the rhythmic breathing that issued from his contented wife, who was blessed enough to snooze through the entire night; however, the headaches he had been battling also cast their vote and sent twinges that snatched him from any ten minute doze which he managed to catch.

"Good morning, dear," Laurie yawned as she tossed back her half of the covers and Gus shut off the alarm clock on his night stand. Receiving only a grunt and groan from her exhausted husband, she could feel it in her bones that the Roman didn't get the rest he had hoped for that previous night. Normally, Gus, though not a morning person, would at least render a slurred yet friendly good morning to his family before his breakfast would restore his energy to normal levels. "Oh my, I gather you didn't sleep off that headache after all?"

"Aaarrgh, I haven't' spent a sleepless night like this since-" he immediately cut himself off when he was about to site the night he agonized over either winning the Father Of the year contest or saving the family from eviction. Laurie had seen Evictus tearing up the lease on the day of the election results, believing the landlord was being a poor loser; however, she never knew the heavy burden Gus bore alone during the entire campaign and the truth as to why Gus attempted to throw the election. Thankfully, memories of another sleepless night presented themselves so he would be able to continue his verbal expression without arousing any suspicions that would cause a concerned Laurie to press him for answers he was in no mood to render. "… since I stayed up through the night finishing those blueprints for Mr. Amalgamus."

"Poor dear, maybe you should call in sick today, so you can get some rest," the kindly lady cooed as she drew to Gus's side and wrapped her arms around him. "You wouldn't be any good on the Appian Freeway or at work in this condition."

"I can't, honey," Gus mumbled, gently slipping from his wife's embrace so he could collect a clean toga, bathe, and do all he needed to do to get ready for another long day at the construction company. "I've been using sick leave with that hospital stay and a couple days at home. The year's not even half over, and I don't want to use it all up and then find I need it but can't have it. Just make the coffee extra strong, and I should be OK." With that, he, so drowsy it was a wonder he could stagger a straight line, shuffled into the bathroom so he could spend a little time on the marble throne before shaving and bathing.

Sadly, nothing would decrease the ever present headache pain that gripped the ill man like a brass fetter. Was it his imagination, or were the headaches worsening while the soreness in his side was merely a dull discomfort in comparison? The horrible sensation was growing unbearable, and he found no feeble effort to quell the pain was working. Washing his hair did nothing to soothe him, and the throbbing blasted beneath his skull with drum beats that would have put Precocia's amateur drum solos to shame. Unable to wear his laurel wreath because his head felt as if it would explode, Gus reached for his bandanna and ran it under the cold water before firmly binding it on. The compress did little to alleviate the thump thump thumping that refused to cease; in fact, it certainly had not masked the pain as much as it did the day before. Naturally, this raised concerns that Dr. Checkius erred in his prognosis, that something far worse could be amiss. Would eating help? Would those useless headache pills even try to make a dent in the horrible internal pounding he was forced to endure? Though the answers to these questions were not forthcoming, it was a given that nothing would be settled as long as he remained under his self inflicted confinement to the master bath. Therefore, there was nothing he could do, save eat his breakfast and go to work as he would on any other normal day.

The morning's work dragged by at a snail's pace for Gus, who found the noisy equipment only compounded the headaches to the point where he was certain that his cranium would burst like a balloon upon making contact with a needle. If he didn't know better, the construction project was going on beneath his skull instead of on the lot on which the new orphanage was being built. Not only was it markedly evident that he was in pain, but his fatigue also manifested upon his haggard visage. Only the anticipation of his noon time conversation with Macius remained under tight wraps.

"Lunch break, everybody, time to knock it off for an hour!" Gus hollered after the whistle made its presence known above the din with two loud blows.

"We hear and obey, master," Razzius mocked after setting a marble slab into place. "Come on, guys, the boss's pet says it's time to eat."

"Am I going to have to put up with this from you jack wagons every day until my ribs heal?" Gus shot back indignantly as he quickly approached the water cooler to fill his thermos and wet down his headband, all the while refusing to look these men in the eye, for he knew that the sight of their faces would invoke wrathful feelings to burn within him.

"Well, at least you've come to your senses and stopped wearing that laurel wreath; only real men are supposed to wear them," Boastius derided his co-worker with no remorse. "But we all know you aren't a real man; if you were, you'd be a better provider for your family. You're too old to still live in a rental … you know, not owning anything. I'll bet that laurel wreath isn't yours either; did you borrow that from a family member to make yourself look better?"

"If you guys are so dead set on putting me down, at least come up with something new. As for not wearing my laurel wreath, I can't wear both it and the cold compress I'm using for my headaches at the same time. And I wouldn't question why I have a wreath, Mr. Big Stuff, unlike you who got yours … oh where did you tell us you got it … in a junior college track meet; I earned the right to wear mine for serving in the Roman army. I was already driving a chariot for the Emperor while you guys were still drooling down your front and wetting your diapers on a regular basis. Later." Gus delivered his rebuttal to the blond's diatribe on such an even keel it even surprised him, given the fact he inwardly felt his dander rising along with his blood pressure. With his lunch box and thermos in hand and his compress reapplied, he exited the construction site en route to the park, taking large strides the entire way, for even the confounding discussions with Macius were far more welcome than the youths' jibes.

Finding that three chattering little old ladies had made themselves comfortable on the bench he had chosen yesterday, Gus scanned the area for another place to sit, his eyes falling on an approaching Macius before he could locate another perch.

"Afternoon, Gus!" the kindly Christian hailed with a smile and a wave of the right hand. "You look terrible, are you feeling all right today?" The gentleman cast concerned eyes his exhausted compadre's way, noting the bloodshot eyes that were ringed with tell tale dark circles and the visage that clearly indicated a prolonged suffering or anxious state.

"Oh, sure, really I'm … I'm fine."

"Then why don't I believe it?

"OK, OK, OK, I slept poorly last night, and the headaches …"

"Not getting any better?"

"No, in fact, it feels like they're getting worse. I don't think this darn headband's even working anymore. I'm beginning to wonder if there's something the doctor didn't catch when I was in hospital. Trouble is, if I called the doctor, Laurie and the kids would start worrying like crazy."

"Well, you know my offer to pray for your healing still stands, buddy."

"I know, I just can't wrap my head around how someone you can't see, hear, or touch can get rid of a headache."

"It's hard to explain, so you will have to trust me when I say He can." Noticing the three elderly women who couldn't shut up even if they were to curl up and go to sleep right where they sat, Macius leaped at the opportunity God had provided for him to introduce Gus to some other like minded men who shared his faith. "It looks like your favorite bench is occupied today, but you're welcome to eat by the pond with my friends and me; we'd love to have you."

"Thanks, Macius, I appreciate that." Gus followed his companion across the park, somewhat nervous about having his meal in the presence of not one but several men he was certain were of the same beliefs Macius held; however, he reasoned it was better than spending his lunch hour with those arrogant youths he was forced to work with on site. "Wait, if you eat with friends every day, why did you come and spend your lunch hour with me yesterday instead?"

"Nothing brings me greater joy than meeting new people and making friends, and … how else do I put this … like our parents used to when bringing us together with other kids when we were little, God thought we'd become great friends and sent me over to you."

"Huh? You're doing it again, talking about God like He's another dad or something."

"Like I said yesterday, that's because He is. Don't tell me your parents haven't been responsible for your meeting someone who would ultimately become your childhood best friend."

Normally, Gus Holiday wouldn't disclose personal information to a fellow he had only known a few short days; however, there was something about Macius that seemed to invoke cases of verbal diarrhea in him, and he had yet to figure out the reason for this. "Well … uh … they did as far as I can remember. I was five years old when a new family moved in across the street, and Mom told me there was a kid my age and why don't I invite him over to play. The next thing I knew, she had Mark on one hip, took me by the hand, and marched right up to the new family's front stoop. She invited this lady over for some homemade bread, and the lady asked us to come in for a little bit. In my five-year-old mind, I thought someone took the house and shook it up; it was such a mess … got corrected for saying that out loud. Then this other kid with his pet lion cub came running in, and Mom whispered for me to go ahead and invite him over. The next thing I knew, Hammus and I were hanging out together every chance we got. When we reached school age and were old enough to play in the street, our parents used to open up the doors, send us out and told us to be in by suppertime … and why am I going on about this? What's this to do with God and why you went out of your way to befriend me?"

"Just think about it this way for a second, Gus, yesterday, God took me by the hand, brought me to you, and nudged me to … quote, unquote … invite you over to play … which, in our case is sharing lunch together."

"If I live to be a hundred, I'll never understand any of this … God being some kind of an invisible, in audible and untouchable dad, how He can do things when you can't see or hear Him, and exactly what's with this guy, Jesus Christ? You told me he was a man of reconciliation, but I had a dream last night where I remembered my parents talking about Jesus being a condemned prisoner. Which is it? Is there something I'm missing here if I'm confused as all get out while you don't appear to be batting an eye?"

"Hold on, one thing at a time!" Macius held up his left hand in mock despair. "For one, I think the first thing you need to do is stop trying to imagine God as someone you can literally see with your eyes, hear with your ears, or touch with your hands; instead, you need to see, hear, and touch Him with your heart. As for Jesus, it's true on both counts about reconciliation and his being put to death on the cross. I'm sure my friends can help clear that up, as all this has got to be rather confusing for you." In a moment, the Romans approached some benches that sat under the shelter of some shade trees, a shimmering, silver pond only a few meters ahead of them. One member of this little gathering approached the pair, a man who appeared to be in his fifties, sported a moustache, and had salt and pepper hair framing his jovial face. "Jubilus, Corticus, and Aimius, this is my friend, Gus Holiday; we both work for Mr. Tycoonius at the Forum Construction Company, and we met yesterday over lunch."

"Welcome, Gus," Jubilus, the mustached man extended his right hand and shook with the new comer, his strong hand gripping heartily. "It's a pleasure to meet you, brother."

"Well, I'm …" Gus, who responded in kind with his own grip smiled at this gentleman but was at a momentary loss for words, for he believed that Christians liked to eat among their own and realized he would stick out like a carpenter's sore thumb around these men since he knew next to nothing about the God whom they worshipped.

"Uh, Jubilus, to tell you the truth, he hasn't have much exposure to God to speak of," Macius carefully explained so he could get his point across that Gus was not a fellow child of God; in fact, it was likely all he could do to wrap his head around the notion that Christians didn't cast spells over people after all.

"Hey, it's perfectly all right, my friend, the more the merrier," Jubilus laughed as he gestured to one of the benches and bid Gus make himself comfortable.

"That's a rather interesting headband you're wearing. Forgive me if I'm prying as you don't often see men beyond their teenage years with something like that on, but what's it for?" the stocky, curly blond haired, Corticus expressed his query with not one shred of judgment or malice, which was such a refreshing and welcome change from the digs, Mr. Holiday had to endure at work every day.

The newbie suppressed a laugh at the irony of it all; for it was his son's bandanna he was borrowing in his feeble attempts to extinguish the screaming headaches. "I'm not going through my second childhood, far from it; I've just had these splitting headaches since I got hit in the head a week and a half ago. The pills weren't doing what they were supposed to, so my wife thought this would help. At first it worked like a charm, but not so anymore."

"If you don't mind, Gus, we can pray for God to heal up those headaches," Aimius, a well built fellow in his mid forties with chestnut colored hair smiled warmly with genuine compassion and concern showing in his hazel eyes.

"I … uh-" Suddenly impaling him from one temple to the other, a spear of unbearable pain whizzed through his skull at a speed even lightning would viciously envy, causing the suffering soul to double over and clutch his head tightly with both hands! His lunch box fell to the ground with a dull clatter when the metal container made contact with the dirt and grass, doing nothing to curry favor with his tortured cranium. "Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhh! Is this what an aneurism feels like! I think my head's going to POP!" he groaned loudly.

"Gus, please let us pray for you," Macius beseeched of his pal, drawing close and curling his fingers around the afflicted fellow's right hand, ready to gently move it to another position so he could gingerly lay his own hand against Gus's dark, wavy locks at the proper time. "I promise, nobody will cast a spell on you."

Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could not bear the excruciating pain one second longer, Augustus Holiday tossed his reservations and fear of spells aside and granted his permission. "Whatever it takes to make it stop! I don't care if you have to knock me out; I just want it to stop!" he panted, trying ardently to concentrate on anything other than the sensation that his very personage would explode, sending bodily debris all over that section of the park.

Wordlessly the quartette of men closed in around Gus, who let go of his pounding head when he felt several pairs of hands settling upon his head, shoulders, and upper back. With his right arm resting against his knee and the fingers of his left hand constricting so tightly around his right wrist he nearly put his fingers on both hands to sleep, he resolved that he had no choice but to entrust himself into not only the hands of those who surrounded him but the hands of one who could only be sensed with the heart.

"We pray now, God of Israel, that You would touch this man, who is every bit as much Your creation as any of us are and grant him a healing from crown to sole. Please remove the headache pain and even the cause of these headaches from him now and forever! You can see his suffering, and we are thanking You in advance for the miracle You will perform within him. Rain down comfort over this afflicted soul and cover him with a peace that passes all understanding. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth we lift these prayers to You, amen!" Jubilus boldly proclaimed his petitions to the Almighty; his heart felt faith that everything would be all right radiating so strongly one would have to be dead to have missed it!

Though he was not entirely stripped of all discomfort, Gus did begin to feel a little better. He no longer believed he would burst; in fact, the pain that nearly caused him to black out a minute ago had been reduced to something bearable. Slowly, he rose to an upright position as his friends drew back and allowed him some room, his eyes wide with the utter surprise that now settled in where his fears had once held him captive.

"This is incredible; it's like the headaches were cut in half … but how?"

"God's healing the pain and bringing you back to health, Gus," Aimius was happy to fill him in on how a loving God looked down upon this distressed Roman, granted him a touch from His own hand, and blessed him with a reduction of the excruciating pain.

"But how could … you sure nobody cast a spell on me?" Gus queried, laboring to make sense of all that had been happening to him over the last couple of days.

"Please let me put your mind at ease about the casting of spells, Gus," Jubilus parked himself at his companion's left side and rested his hand on Holiday's shoulder in a brotherly gesture and looked him directly in the eyes, reflecting warmth that could never be mistaken for a placatory gesture. "When a spell is cast, the victim does not know what will be done to him; this is to say he will wake up with whatever symptom or behavior is dictated by the person casting the spell. Often, the manifestation of the spell is beyond the victim's control, and it is uncharacteristic of them. For example, a man under a spell would take the life of a loved one in a violent way when he normally is mild mannered and wouldn't so much as hurt a fly. He may not know why he did what he did or even that he did it until it was too late. Spells are cast to make a person's condition worse, where prayer is lifted up to improve one's condition or grant guidance. Just as spells are cast without the victim's permission and are not cast in the open, prayer for healing is petitioned with the person's approval and can be done in public or private. We respected you enough to ask for you to give the go ahead before praying for you, and we did it here where passersby could see us, for we feel we have nothing to hide. All we did was ask God, the one who created you in the first place, to rain down comfort over you and make you feel a little better. It's not that different from when you were a little boy and your mother might have kissed your scraped knee, and the pain subsided at that precise juncture."

"I suppose you're going to tell me God cut down the headache by kissing it better?" Gus scoffed as he slipped out from under Jubilus' hand and leaned over to retrieve his fallen lunch box.

"Exactly! You've hit the nail on the head!" Corticus, who settled on the adjacent bench so he could break into his sack lunch, joyfully cried out, a grin splitting his features in two. "And Macius said you have no familiarity with God to speak of? For someone who is just learning, you are making some very astute observations."

"Thanks, Corticus, but believe me, I sure don't feel very smart right now; I think confused would be a better description for me when it comes to stuff to do with God and Jesus Christ," Gus commented sheepishly as he cracked an embarrassed smile, his cheeks flushing a bashful shade of pink. He clearly believed he didn't know what he was talking about among these men, so he couldn't fathom that he was hitting the nails on the head for as often as they gave him credit.

Jubilus, Aimius, and Corticus quietly laughed among themselves, for they knew Macius had done it again. Whenever a new friend crossed his path, he bubbled over with excitement to not only warmly embrace the newcomer, but the zeal to introduce him to the sole one who could grant him eternal life and save him from the permanent anguish and separation from a loving God where the crying would never stop.

"Hahahahahahahaha! Macius sure loves Jesus and gets really hyper when he starts thinking or talking about him," Aimius, who made himself comfortable at Corticus' right and retrieved his sandwich, smiled widely, his cheeks growing round and rosy from the facial gesture.

"Well, he's not the only one to bring up that name; my dad talked about him when I was a kid, but I can't remember much beyond one conversation I overheard. Then I thought I heard Jubilus saying Jesus' name a minute ago. He must be someone really important if you guys talk about him a lot and he made the news when I was twelve. Who exactly is he?" Gus wanted to know as he opened up his lunch box and took the first bite of his home made pizza that was left over from the previous night's dinner.

"Gus, remember how I told you about Adam and Eve?" Macius gently prodded with a wink as he perched at his friend's right side and helped himself to his own mid day meal.

"The first parents? Yeah, I remember."

"I told you that God put them in charge of caring for the Earth, specifically a place called the Garden of Eden. Life was perfect for them there, and they hadn't yet had children; you might compare it to the honeymoon stage of your marriage. Well, one day, an evil deceiver in the form of a serpent came along and told them that they could become like God, knowing both good and evil. You see, they were living in such a perfect state, they didn't know this at the time. Like teenagers who don't realize what an easy life they have and can't wait to come of age, they wanted to be just like their God and did the only thing they were forbidden to do, eat fruit from a tree they were specifically told never to eat from. At that moment, something terrible happened, and things were never to be the same between God and them again; in fact, things would never be the same for all of mankind and God from that moment on." Macius paused so he could scoop a bite of linguini into his mouth, giving Jubilus the chance to join in the teaching session.

"You see, this is what is called sin, and it's when someone acts in rebellion to God, who is perfect and holy, that is set apart. Sadly, like an inherited disease, the sin nature was passed down from generation to generation for thousands of years, carrying consequences such as a life's path that is not as wonderful as it could have been, tragic events at any level, and even death. The worst consequence of all is the separation from God, who loves you deeper than any ocean and higher than any mountain, for He cannot look upon sin, and if we in our fallen state look upon Him in all His glory, we would not be able to survive." Jubilus cast his eyes upon Gus to see if he still had his undivided attention and then glanced Aimius' way to give him a chance to put his two dinars in.

"As horrible as that sounds, God was merciful and allowed death to be a kind of release."

"How?" Gus asked incredulously, unable to wrap his head around how death could be merciful. It surely wasn't merciful when his father was taken from him and his family, thus forcing him into the Roman Army and out of college, never to realize his dream to become a general contractor. "Death is horrible; we lose someone we love; our plans are totally turned upside-down; how can death be a good thing?"

"Well, once Adam and Eve sinned and passed on this sin nature along to the rest of us, they still knew good from evil like the serpent said. Unhappily, this meant that if they lived forever like was originally intended, they would lead lives of conflict, misery, and hunger with no possible relief. There would be no hope for them or us because God can't come near us in our sin state, so physical death came to be for human kind's sake, while immortality would be a curse."

"But if the world was supposed to be perfect, why didn't God just start all over again with all new people who don't have this sin nature?"

"He did start over again with human kind many years later in the days of Noah, when sin got out of hand and people became so wicked, God did destroy everybody in a great flood except for eight people and samplings of each animal on the face of the Earth. However, the sin nature still remained even after the Earth was eventually repopulated. I digress. When God created Adam and Eve, he gave them free will so they could love Him freely; however, with that free will comes the risk they will misuse such freedom, which they did. This is my personal belief; God didn't create a new generation of people minus the sin nature because, to do that, he would have to omit the free will, thus taking away the heartfelt love they would have for Him and each other. That would make people nothing more than machines."

Profound perplexity enveloped Gus like a thick fog as he listened to his companions' words. After he quaffed some water from his thermos, he voiced the query that swirled about in his troubled mind. "So that's it? Either be machines or a bunch of screw-ups that God can't look at? But then if God can't look at us, how did you get Him to cut down the headache pain?"

It was now Corticus' turn to contribute to the spiritual education of Augustus Holiday. "There is still hope, Gus. At the fall of man, God already knew there had to be a perfect sacrifice so we could regain a personal relationship with Him. It wasn't too long ago when animals such as lambs, rams, goats, bulls, pigeons, and doves had to be slain as sacrificial offerings in order to gain God's forgiveness for our sins. This is why He sent His own son to leave his place at his Father's side and come live among us as a man so he could relate to us and eventually lay down his life as what we call the sacrificial lamb. You said you didn't know anything about Jesus Christ? Well, Jesus _is_ God's son, one who was the embodiment of love and knew no sin, took the sins of all who had ever been born and ever will be born upon his back and bore the consequences that we, as a fallen people, deserve. If not for Jesus, what would lie ahead for us upon our death would be an everlasting punishment."

"O … K? Just when I thought I couldn't get even more confused," Gus commented with arched eyebrows, his curious gaze resting upon his new found friends. Would he ever understand what these guys were talking about? "First you say God loves the daylights out of us; then you say he has to punish us for something we can't help?"

"Oh, believe us, God is all knowing and all loving; however, He is a just God who must take action because the wages of sin is death and an eternity separated from Him and all comfort or rest. One important thing to remember is, like any of us who have children would know, just because a punishment has to stand doesn't' mean that the one issuing it takes any pleasure in it. Think back to a time when you had to discipline your children for something they had done which they shouldn't have."

For a moment, Gus recalled times when he had to unleash parental discipline upon his son and daughter, hating every bit of it. He knew his heart would break when he temporarily earned the nickname "mean Daddy" from a four year old Precocia who deserved a spanking for vehemently arguing when warned to stay away from the street. Nor was it easy when a fifteen year old happius boldly announced he wanted to go live with Grandma Kara and Uncle Mark when Gus and Laurie placed him on restriction until further notice for inviting twenty other boys over for a spontaneous party that would have gotten the family evicted from their apartment if Gus hadn't hired Hap out to Evictus to perform many odd jobs for the duration of his restriction. He felt lower than a centipede's instep when he saw how upset his offspring were upon receiving the consequences of their actions but also maintained it was the best thing for them. "Oh, I've had to come down on the kids from time to time … and felt like a first class heal afterward, but I knew they couldn't get away with whatever it was they did to get them busted in the first place."

Macius then picked up the conversational ball. "You didn't stop loving them but wanted to discourage them from repeating the offence. It's the same with God, even when He issues discipline to us; He is absolutely grieved at having to do so. This is why he sent Jesus, so the penalty doesn't have to stand after all. By taking death by crucifixion and accepting our punishment in our place, Jesus bore the wrath of God for all of us … Jubilus, Aimius, Corticus, and you too … all you have to do is believe that Jesus paid for you with his blood and laid his life down to atone for your sins, and you wouldn't have to fear the never ending punishment."

"This never ending punishment, is that when there's an early death in the family like what happened to my dad; or is it when someone goes blind, loses their hearing, winds up in a wheelchair, or when something goes wrong with their mind?" Gus had trouble picturing a loving God issuing such severe sanctioning for misbehaviors and felt a mixture of angry feelings brewing within him, anger over the loss of his father, anger over the possibility it could have been avoided, anger at God for not relaying this information to him before it was too late and his family's lives were irrevocably altered twenty-three and a half years ago. "Loving God, yeah right!" he shot back bitterly, his right hand balling into a white knuckled fist.

"Easy, Gus, it may look like God isn't loving when those things happen, but they do happen as a result of the sin nature passed down from Adam and Eve," Macius gently squeezed Gus's arm in an attempt to staunch not only his words, but the flow of emotions that would certainly cloud his judgment. He was overwhelmed by the sudden rush of intuition that kicked in with the power of white capped rapids; for he knew with every fiber of his being that this lost soul desperately needed help. "I don't have the answers for why you lost your father at such a young age, but I can say with certainty that it wasn't anybody's fault … not your mother's, not yours, not God's. War is a horrible thing, and I can assure you, God grieved right along with your family when your dad died. So, no, your dad's death wasn't the penalty that could have been avoided by embracing Jesus. I'm afraid the everlasting punishment would make a death in the family pale by comparison. I can see you're feeling quite overwhelmed and possibly a little upset; believe me, that was not our intension in the least. If you want, we can answer all of your questions about what we talked about here today another time when you're feeling a little better."

Temporarily rendered speechless and with his head hung low, Gus could scarcely meet his friends' eyes. He bit into his lower lip hard enough to draw a few droplets of blood, licked them away, and heaved a deep sigh.

"You OK, buddy," Aimius softly inquired.

"Just give me a minute," Gus answered, finally regaining his ability to speak. 

"You know, we're doing a teaching on Sunday about the importance of accepting Jesus Christ as lord and savior, and I think many of your questions can be answered then," Jubilus piped up, his eyes twinkling with inspiration and excitement. "My brother, Elliquus, leads the teachings every Sunday at his house, and you are welcome to come along. You can bring your family if you like; there'll be other women and children there too. We have our lesson in the morning, eat a pot luck lunch together, and then we enjoy each other's company around a sports game on TV."

Even though the subject matter the men were going to discuss at the house made him feel uneasy, Gus had a strange feeling that these fellows meant him no harm, and it certainly would do him a world of good to make some new friends now that all of his old ones he had known for years had either moved away or were unable to spend time with him anymore. "Thank you, Jubilus, I'll have to check with Laurie and the kids, but I doubt there would be a problem. If we can make it, what time did you want my family and me to show up Sunday?"

Jubilus took one last swig of his grape juice, leaving only half a swallow in the bottom of the cup. "We break out the drinks, snacks, and donuts around nine thirty in the morning and start the lesson about ten o'clock. Sometimes our wives sit in on the lesson; sometimes they have their own meeting in the kitchen. There's also a big fenced in back yard for the children to play in. Here, I'll jot my brother's address on this." With that, he retrieved a miniature scroll, quickly scribbled the information down with a sharp twig he dipped in what was left of his juice, and passed it over to Gus's outstretched right hand.

"Thanks, pal," he expressed his gratitude; little knowing that he was not only on the path to complete healing for his headaches, but eventually for his heart.


	7. The Seeker

Chapter 7 – The seeker

"Sin had left a crimson stain; he washed it white as snow." – Jesus Paid It All by Kristian Stanfill

For the first time in what seemed to be ages, Gus Holiday pulled his chariot into the garage with a smile on his face and feeling blithe of spirit. He never dreamed that something as simple as an invitation to somebody's home would reignite the excitement he used to feel when he, as a child would be invited for a day of fun and food at an amusement park! Had his old friends been absent for so long that he had forgotten what it was to be accepted among his peers? Though he was an amiable man who managed to secure enough votes to have tied for first place for Father Of The Year only eleven months ago, he had lost his close circle of friends when they all had to move away or become too busy with demanding jobs to fellowship with him at the bowling alley or on the golf course. There was no guarantee that these new men would share his interest in these sports; however, the mere fact that they, his age mates, welcomed him with neither reservation nor rue filled him with joy he hadn't known for longer than he could remember!

After settling Bear, the chariot horse into his stall, Gus strode over to the mailbox to retrieve whatever scrolls lay within and drew a heavy sigh when he discovered the hospital bill among the junk fliers.

"I guess I couldn't avoid it forever," he groaned as he scaled the stairs and approached his front door, ready to enter his little sanctuary and sit down to dinner with his family. "I'm home, everybody! Boy will I be glad to sink my teeth into that pot roast you got out this morning, Laurie." He dropped his lunchbox on the floor in the entryway by the front closet, flopped into his favorite chair and rested his tired feet upon the ottoman. Though he was relieved of heavy lifting until given permission from the doctor, it was still murder on his feet to have to remain standing all day while supervising his nemeses.

"Well, I'm afraid dinner's going to be about fifteen minutes late, dear, the range is acting up again; I can't seem to get it to heat up properly," Mrs. Holiday sighed as she emerged from the kitchen and plunked down on the left hand end of the couch. "I ran into Mr. Evictus downstairs and asked him when he was going to come by and fix it, but he only told me he would be up here when he can get around to it and walked away from me without another word."

"That figures," Gus mumbled, tossing the mail scrolls onto the floor beside the chair except for the one he knew he had better open with no further procrastination. As his eyes fell upon the amount printed at the bottom of the hospital bill, his face drained of all color! "Oh no! After insurance, the hospital still expects me to cough up eight hundred and seventy-three dinars!" Slamming the parchment into his lap, he grumped, "OK, someone pass the phone over here; I'll call and see if Ignasius needs a night shift dishwasher again."

"Don't bother," Precocia, who was perched in her mother's rocker, murmured, her head hung low and her hands folded into her empty lap, for she had set aside her almost complete blue toga upon hearing the news that would free her dad from night work, but assure her a boring summer.

"What's going on here, why the long faces, kids?" the patriarch wanted to know, observing Happius also carried disappointment upon his countenance.

"you see, Pop, the good news is you don't have to work nights to pay off the hospital bill; the bad news is we know how we can pay it off in one fell swoop," Hap laid aside his _Rolling Columns Magazine_ and met his father's eyes.

"Sweetheart, remember that wind storm where you had gotten hurt?" Laurie began.

"How can I forget?" Gus shot back facetiously, indicating his headband and waving the bill before his wife.

"It turns out that in the same storm, Kootenay Creek Camp sustained such severe damage, they had to close down for repairs, and it's not likely they will finish in time for this summer's sessions, meaning no summer camp for Precocia, no band camp for Happy, and no men's fishing retreat for you. They called this afternoon and said they would wire us the money we sent in for the three sessions … eight hundred twenty dinars, which should take care of most of that bill."

"Aarrrgh, that's awful! I realize it would help with the bill, but I was hoping it wouldn't have to be at the expense of the kids' camp; they've been looking forward to it since we sent in the applications last month."

"I told Hap and Precocia we could spend some of the summer at Mark's farm if he doesn't mind having us for a week or two. It may not be the same as being able to meet up with camp friends or fishing buddies, but the kids could find lots of things to do with their cousins, and you can always fish with your brother. Maybe when the long distance rates go down this weekend, you can call Mark and talk to him about it," Laurie suggested before her gaze shifted to the bundle of light blue fabric that rested on the table instead of in Precocia's lap. "Precocia, I know you were making that toga so your camp mates could see you in it, but I think you should finish it anyway; in fact, I think you're due for a few more. You're growing so fast that there's nothing left of the hems of the ones you already have for me to let down."

"Yeah, you don't want to go around looking like a heron, do you, sis?" Happy couldn't resist offering his advice without slipping in a brotherly jibe.

"Very funny," Precocia commented before sticking her tongue out at her sibling in a cheeky gesture and retrieving her sewing project. Perhaps she was outgrowing her togas, but it wouldn't be as much fun to model her new clothes for her relatives as it would have been to do so for her bunkmates at camp.

"There's a one day only Sunday sale at Demetrius Downtown Discounts … buy one get one half price. We can get some really lovely fabric and make you some nice new outfits, honey." Laurie paused for a moment, ran her hand along her own clothes and continued, "Now that I think of it, we're all due for one or two new togas. That beige one you have should be demoted to work clothes, Gus; it's getting so worn out, I don't think I can mend it anymore. And Happy, if you're going to be graduating in another few weeks and enroll in college this fall, you'll need to start wearing young men's togas. We can all go down Sunday morning and select the material we would like." When she turned to face her husband to see if this idea would at least meet with some semblance of approval, she noticed a look upon his features that clearly denoted he neither now nor ever planned to spend his Sunday in a store purchasing fabric for new raiment. "Is something wrong, dear? Are you worried about the money it would cost? This is why I want to go Sunday, so we can get material at a price we can afford."

"It's not that, honey, I … kind of made plans thinking we'd be able to make it with no problem. I was talking to some guys during my lunch hour, and one of them invited all of us to his brother's house to kind of get to know each other better and eat a pot luck lunch on Sunday."

"Someone call the news scrolls," Hap blurted out with an exaggerated wave of the hand, "Pop's co-workers finally got a brain and stopped acting like a bunch of jerks who think their *$# doesn't' stink!" Needless to say, he risked parental wrath when he uttered a word that he shouldn't have in front of his mother and younger sister, one that rhymed with bit.

"Happius Holiday," Laurie scolded, shooting her son a dirty look for making such a remark involving a four letter word when the word doo-doo would have sufficed.

"Oops, sorry, mom," Hap blushed sheepishly, for it was embarrassing for him, a youth only a few short months away from beginning college, to still find himself in trouble with his parents. "I just couldn't believe those co-workers of Dad's would suddenly start acting nice to him after all that time they spent putting him down like he was a dog or something."

"I wish," Gus snorted at the very thought of spending one more nanosecond with those prideful men than he truly had to. "I got so fed up with those yo-yos that I walked off the grounds and ate in the park with a bunch of the friendliest fellows I'd seen in a long time. One minute, we were talking a blue streak, the next, one of them up and invited all of us to spend the day at his brother's house. I told him we'd be there, not knowing you were planning a family shopping trip. Guess I had better call and say we can't make it; I can't have my family walking around in outgrown or tattered togas."

"Oh, you'll do no such thing, Augustus Holiday!" Laurie insisted her better half not martyr himself for want of fabric. "You haven't' had a close circle of friends in months, and this will do you a world of good to have other men to spend time with."

"Laurie, this guys' house is on the other side of town, and we have only one chariot, remember?" Gus pointed out to his wife that it couldn't be a matter of some of the family going to one place while the rest go somewhere else.

It hadn't been more than six months since the Holidays were forced to surrender their second chariot to Gus's brother, Mark, after Gus had suddenly collapsed from exhaustion due to his holding down two physically demanding jobs. It had been necessary for the head of the Holiday clan to work nights on a temporary basis after he amassed several debts because he bestowed expensive gifts upon his family and himself when he thought a buried treasure in the front yard would make him a millionaire. He had washed dishes at Ignasius' Restaurant long enough to pay off every one of his debts except for that involving the brand new chariot he bought. When Ignasius had to let him go for the sake of his health, Gus knew that the repo man would be along any day to take away his new "toy". Thankfully, that was around the same time Mark had phoned, bearing the tidings that he and his family were not going to be able to visit as planned, for their own rattle trap of a chariot had broken down and was beyond repair. They had gone for nearly five weeks without any transportation of their own, relying heavily upon neighbors to get them wherever they needed to gso because hard times made it impossible for the dairy farmer to afford to buy anything on the lot, even on timed payments, for the dealers where he lived were unwilling to bring their prices down to something he could handle. It was agreed that mark would take over responsibility for Gus's new chariot because he lived out in the country and needed something he could rely on for years to come, especially now that an aging Kara had moved in with him four years ago. Because of chronic pain in her knees and back troubles, she no longer felt safe climbing the stairs in the two story home that she and her husband had occupied since she had been thirteen weeks pregnant with Gus. When the chariot title was turned over, the payments were refinanced to accommodate the struggling farmer's means so repossession wouldn't be a constant worry.

"To be honest, mom, I wasn't planning on any shopping sprees either," Happy contributed to the conversation. "I made plans to go to Groovia's house and practice my drumming while her dad was outside doing the yard work."

"What if Mom and I drop Happy and Daddy off where they want to go; we go get the material; then we pick up Happy and go to Daddy's friend's house? Would that work?" Precocia suggested, taking a minute to look up from her project with what she hoped was the solution to the family's transportation problem.

"That would depend on how far away this house is; honey, did your friends give you a map?" Laurie stretched out her hand to accept the paper that Jubilus had given to Gus. "Looks like your idea could work, Precocia, that's if we're all willing to get up early so we can drop off the boys where they want to go and still make it to that sale. Then we can swing by Groovia's house, pick up Hap, and then Join Daddy and these new friends of his. Is that all right with everybody?"

"With only one chariot and four people wanting to go to three different places in one morning, it will have to be, honey," Gus shrugged his shoulders before reclining in his chair in anticipation of partaking of Laurie's scrumptious cooking and hoping Brutus wouldn't pace around the table begging for scraps or waiting for someone to drop a piece of food on the floor.

The rising sun greeted the early hours with its toasty golden beams, casting the sky in a shade of azure blue that no human artist could possibly capture in a portrait. The petunias that grew around the Venus De Milo Arms Apartments, where the Holiday family had resided for the last seven years, soaked in the sun's warmth and sat aglow under its brilliant morning light. The gentle breezes that softly kissed the landscape sent the sweet aroma of the flowers through the air, and it was a perfect day for a chariot ride! It took hardly any time at all to drop Happy off at his girlfriend's home with Brutus in tow so he could spend some time with her and also practice his drums. It was decided the family pet would accompany the teenager because he couldn't be trusted in the apartment unattended with all that food around. Gus was certain that with Laurie driving, they would not make good time, as he anticipated her asking directions every third block; however, she knew exactly where to go. It turned out that she had phoned the house while Gus was bathing and got her directions at that juncture so their journey would not be hampered.

Toting a large, red cookie tin full of goodies Laurie had prepared for the pot luck lunch, Gus slowly padded up the path of stepping stones that led to Elliquus' lovely two story home. Though he was unsure how well he would understand the content of the teaching the men spoke of in the park earlier in the week, this was not the reason for his tortislike traverse. Whenever he would visit someone's house for the first time, the contractor within him would admire the residence and imagine what it might be like to have the honor of renovating it. Since his family tragedy had forced him to give up the reality of becoming a general contractor, he always welcomed the opportunity to dream of what it would be like if he could have been one. He pressed his index finger into the doorbell button and waited patiently for the owner to open the door and usher him inside.

"Good morning, may I help you, sir?" a tall, large framed man with a plump belly cheerily greeted, a jolly smile curving his lips and causing his eyes to light up like the rarest of jewels.

"Well, uh … you don't know me my name's-" the Roman awkwardly began, for how could he explain his presence if Jubilus had forgotten to warn the homeowner of his arrival.

"Gus!" Macius' call rang out from inside the domicile, for though he was not sitting at an angle where he could see his pal on the porch, he did manage to recognize his distinctive voice. Though he hadn't known Mr. Holiday for even one week, he was certain that he could locate him in the noisiest of settings only by listening for him! "Elliquus, that's the guy I was telling you about … the one we met in the park and invited over!"

Ah, yes, so this is the newcomer whose soft spoken wife placed that mysterious phone call for directions to the house earlier this morning, Elliquus, always happy to fill his living room with folks he hoped would become long time friends, thought as he pieced two and two together. "So you're Gus Holiday? Macius and some of the other guys were telling me about you. Please come in." With that, the "gentle giant" as his companions entitled him, stepped back and motioned for the newcomer to enter and make himself comfortable wherever he could find to sit in the crowded living room that smelled of fresh coffee. "You didn't have to bring anything if you didn't want to."

"Laurie took it upon herself to bake a few dozen cookies for the pot luck. I think she made more than enough for the entire Roman Army!" Gus settled on a large ottoman that could comfortably seat two grown men and passed the tin, which was filled to capacity with homemade butter cookies of various shapes, into Elliquus' outstretched hands.

"That's for sure; these will keep us going for the next three weeks!" the host laughed as he beheld the weight of the container and slipped through the doorway so he could set the generous gift upon the countertop.

"Your family couldn't make it, Gus?" Macius, who sat in the swivel chair to Holiday's left, queried; scooping five white chocolate covered pretzels, three milk chocolate covered ones, and a handful of dark chocolate covered peanuts onto a napkin and passing it to him. "You want some coffee? I think all we have left is decaf now; Looks like Jubilus managed to get to the last goblet of regular."

"No thanks, Macius, I'm not all that fond of decaf. As for why I came alone … one of the drawbacks to being a one chariot family, Laurie and the kids had somewhere else they had to go. They didn't want me to back out of coming here, so they dropped me off and will join us later." Gus popped one of the salty/sweet treats into his mouth and grinned widely, for the taste had granted him a momentary euphoria that he hadn't known since Laurie started buying the low salt variety of snacks when the Roman was diagnosed as hypertensive.

"Your pretzels are a hit, Aimius, just look at his eyes roll back in his head!" Corticus praised his chum's choice in snack food and led all the men in a thunderous wave of raucous laughter that was soon lanced by the doorbell's tones!

"We're back!" a female voice rang out from the direction of the foyer, and Gus blinked in disbelief when he caught sight of the vaguely familiar face of a stout lady who entered with two pregnant friends, an elderly man, and a short, stocky woman who held the staff of a blind person following close behind. "Neddia, your usual place is ten paces to your left; ladies, you might have to squish together on the love seat over by Jubilus; and Erudus, there's still room on the hassock next to … Mr. Holiday? Is that you? I had no idea you were a …" Her exclamation had confirmed Gus's suspicions; this was Healthia, one of the nurses who had cared for him while he was in hospital.

The words escaping him, Gus, having popped another pretzel into his mouth, smiled awkwardly at the nurse. Again, he was met with the challenge of disclosing the truth of his not being a Christian without causing offence to the kindly lady.

"Gus is here for the first time, sweetheart," Jubilus smiled at the nurse before he motioned for her to join him on the couch. "What happened to Annia? Is she not coming today?" he asked, observing that there was one group member missing from the mix.

"Oh, she's not feeling well today; she's running a fever and says she hasn't held anything down to speak of since Friday afternoon. I was thinking we could pray for her just before the lesson."

"Of course we can do that," Elliquus nodded in agreement before disappearing into the kitchen to alert the ladies in there that it would be time to commence with the teaching in about ten minutes. He then emerged with a tray holding a pitcher of tea, a small squeeze bottle of lime juice, and a bunch of plastic party goblets. "I'm sorry for not having brought out the tea before now, folks. I'll bet you non-coffee drinkers are getting mighty thirsty. Gloria says she will bring the ice water out in a minute. Gus, my wife, Gloria, tends to make the tea so sweet some of us say that one sip would have you so wired you could light up the Coliseum, so you can either have some with lime in it, or you can wait for the water."

"Are you kidding, Elliquus?" Healthia piped up with a mischievous grin crossing her features and the intension of some good natured teasing running through her mind. "The last thing this guy needs is something that would make him even more hyper than God made him in the first place. Trust me; one too many goblets of coffee, and it was all I could do to keep him in bed while he was in hospital!" She winked in her former patient's direction, her bubbly personality radiating throughout the whole room.

"Hey, I was bored and was still waiting for you to take me for that afternoon walk in the sunshine as you promised," Gus caught on to the woman's intension to goof on him in a friendly way, arming himself for the battle of wits that would ensue.

"Now hold on, you big silly, we did go on that afternoon walk in the sunshine," Healthia was determined to drag out this war of words until she was assured her rival ran out of ammunition.

"Actually, we went on an afternoon _roll in the sunshine_," Gus beamed, quite pleased with himself that he got off on the technicality of his having to be wheeled in the sun instead of walking on his own steam.

Slowly a grin crossed the nurse's features, and with a mischievous gleam in her eye, she retrieved one of the miniature powdered donuts that sat on the coffee table, reached over, and stuffed it into Gus's mouth, but not before getting in the last word. "Oh we went on a walk; for that to happen, at least one of the parties had to be walking; and since I didn't take you out there while on roller skates, I was walking. Therefore, we did go on an afternoon walk where you just happened to have been riding in a wheelchair! Ha-ha!" When she had thwarted any chance of rebuttal by transforming the pastry into an eatable gag, the entire room roared in laughter that rang out through the house!

"It looks like our new friend has completed one rite of passage already. If Healthia gets into a battle of wits with you and stops at nothing to get the last word, it's a sign she likes you and considers you a worthy opponent!" Jubilus declared after he had sufficiently recovered from his mirth. "Trust me, I've been married to her for thirty-eight years; I should know."

"Folks, I hate to interrupt our feast of fellowship, but I do think we should get started if we're going to pray for Annia before the lesson," Elliquus announced with a wave of his left hand as the remainder of the group quietly filed in and made themselves comfortable wherever they could find a place. Some dragged in chairs from the kitchen while others sat upon large pillows on the floor.

"Who's Annia?" Gus queried after swallowing the bite of donut that had gone passed his lips and between his teeth, a smudge of white powdered sugar resting on the left corner of his mouth.

"She's my roommate," Neddia answered after having gulped down some sweetened tea with a squirt of lime. If you could put the personality of the most friendly, laid back lap kitten into a human's body, that's what you would get; she is the type who would like to love everybody."

"If you decide to come over again next week, you might meet her; I've seen her get sick like this before, and she bounces back fast," Healthia commented before helping herself to some tea, minus the lime.

"Maybe while we're praying for her healing, we should pray for you again, Gus. I'm gathering that headband means the headaches are still bothering you?" Macius observed, pointing out that the roman was still relying on the cold compress to lessen the pain.

"You still are having headaches? Have you called Dr. Checkius about this?" healthia scolded mildly. "You should know head injuries are nothing to play with."

"Doc says I should be fine; everything seemed normal at my last appointment. My vision isn't blurry; I'm not puking my guts out; I'm not having any of those symptoms he told me to look out for. The pills might as well be sugar candy, and the only thing that helped was when the guys in the park asked God to heal me. Looks like the healing thing wore off. The way some of you guys talked, I didn't think this healing was like those batteries that run out and have to be recharged all the time." When the goblets of ice water were presented, Gus helped himself to one and added a dash of lime for flavor.

"I've never heard a comparison such as that, but I do see where you would think the healing wore off on you, Gus. Often times we expect to be completely well right away, and we get impatient when we don't become instantly healthy or stripped of all vestiges of pain. Sometimes God grants a complete healing; sometimes He makes it gradual so we would come to Him and learn to trust Him to fulfill our needs no matter what they may be," Elliquus explained, suppressing a chortle at the battery remark that obviously displayed Gus's spiritual innocence. "This wouldn't be the first time someone has asked God to grant another healing touch for the same condition. With your permission, I'd like for us to pray for you while we pray for Annia and get the lesson under way."

Knowing now that prayers were not a form of witchery, Gus nodded his consent and laid his drink and snack food on the coffee table in front of him. Erudus laid a gentle fatherly hand upon Holiday's back while some of the men surrounded the perch on which he sat, settling their hands lightly on his back, shoulders and the crown of his bowed head. Those who did not make physical contact remained where they were, stretching their hands toward the afflicted newbie.

"our Father in Heaven, we love You, and we pray now that You look upon Gus and grant him a healing touch that will flush out these headaches with which he currently battles. Please sweep away any unwelcome impurities that may be causing the pain, and please restore a level of comfort to him that is even better than he had known prior to this injury he had apparently suffered. We lift him into Your capable and loving hands now. We also lift our sister Annia into Your hands, praying that You would purge all vestiges of illness from her body and restore her health to normal. We pray You restore her appetite and strength so she can be happy and return to us next week. Please touch her from crown to sole and cast this flu bug as far as the east is from the west! We thank You for what You are doing in these two very special people and that they will be right as rain once again. in the Name of Jesus Christ. Amen!" Upon hearing the rest of the company echo their "Amen" Elliquus drew back, allowing Gus room to sit upright once more. The rest of the men who surrounded him looked to him expectantly, the expression in Gus's eyes telling them that God had heard and lovingly honored their request.

"This is … it's absolutely amazing. It's like it was before I got hit in that storm. Thank you." Gus wanted to say more, but he was so taken aback by the total removal of the pesky headaches that proper words escaped him. How could this be? How could he be healed by prayer when the doctor and medication did nothing for him? Acting on faith that he would no longer need it, Gus untied his bandanna and set it in his lap, his dependence on it finally having come to an end! When they beheld the wide smile that brightened their new friend's visage, the rest of the group members all rendered their praises and prayers of gratitude Heavenward. Then once everyone had settled down, Elliquus gathered up some scrolls and began his teaching.

"Now who remembers where we left off last week?" Elliquus inquired as he unraveled the scroll which had a number one written on the outer corner.

"We had left off on the importance of embracing Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior," one of the women Gus had not yet met cheerily chirped her response.

"That's right. If you folks will bear with me, I will backtrack a little for Gus's benefit since he's new and we're unsure how much he knows about God and Jesus. Gus, I hope I don't make you feel like you're on the spot, but I want to be sure how much you understand before I get into the meat of the lesson. It can be confusing for someone who is unfamiliar with God. I'll start by asking, do you know what a sin nature is?

"I think it's to do with when those two people … what were their names … listened to a talking snake, ate some fruit God told them they weren't supposed to have, and picked up some hereditary tendency to rebel against Him."

Keeping a subtle eye on Gus's facial expressions or other indications of understanding or confusion, Elliquus continued, "That's right! Because Adam and Eve, the first two people who lived on this Earth disobeyed God who created them, they passed down a terrible thing through the bloodlines called a sin nature, which causes us all to do things that make us fall short of God's glory. Because of this nature, God, who loves us very much, has to turn His face away from us, for He is so perfect He cannot look at sin. It's kind of like getting ignored by someone whose love you want desperately." Upon noticing the change in the reflection upon Gus's countenance from comprehension to perplexity, he paused to allow for any further questions.

"If God's some kind of giant parent like some of you guys have told me before, something's wrong here. What kid hasn't gotten into trouble with a parent? Still, the parents don't just throw them away like this. If God's so loving, why turn away from us; it doesn't make sense."

"It's because, unlike us, God is absolutely perfect in every way. Not only can't He look at us in a sin state; it would kill us to see him like that as well. We just wouldn't be able to handle beholding Him in all his indescribable glory and splendor. In order for us to have God look upon us again, there is only one way to be cleansed of the sin nature. We must accept that Jesus Christ, the perfect, sinless son of God, came to Earth to live as a man and take upon his totally innocent back the sins and their attendant punishment that should go to us."

"How is it Jesus was perfect when the rest of us aren't?"

"Jesus is the Son of God, not having been born from a man and wife as we were, and he didn't inherit the sin nature. Because of this, he was the only one who could atone for all of us; he not only endured physical punishment by being nailed to a cross around thirty-one years ago after stirring up the Pharisees by proclaiming he was the son of god …"

Thirty-one years ago? Again Gus found his mind wandering to that boyhood flashback where he had overheard the discourse concerning the radio article that vexed his parents to the point of his mom's breaking into tears and his dad's quickly dismissing the subject twice. Hoping Elliquus' oration might provide some semblance of clarity; he held his tongue and listened attentively.

"It wasn't bad enough Jesus, who was simply teaching the people about the Kingdom of Heaven had to suffer crucifixion as if he was the worst of villains, he had to experience God's turning His face away from him and sending him to a place called hell for 3 days after he died." A quick glance from the corner of Elliquus' eye revealed that Gus immediately stopped drinking his ice water and set the goblet down while a most puzzled facial expression showed the teacher just how green the newcomer truly was. "Hell is a very bad place where all your worse fears and most horrible nightmares play out forever with no rest or stopping. You see across a chasm what you could have had in a world where you would never have known unhappiness again and could have lived in permanent joy. The echoes of your own crying would ring forever, and there is no God to comfort or guide you. The only way to avoid going there upon your death is to accept that Jesus Christ died for you and bore your sins upon his back so you could begin and enjoy a relationship with God in Heaven." Mr. Holiday's incredulous demeanor sent the silent signal for him to stop for a moment.

"Wait a second, when you're dead, all you do is go into the ground; I was at my father's funeral, and they just lowered him in and covered him up with dirt. Nobody said anything about him going to any places called Heaven or Hell," the bewildered gentleman posed his question when Elliquus cast a prompting wink his way.

"That's right; our bodies do go into the ground, but we are made up of more than just the physical bodies you see around you every day. We are made up of a body, soul, and spirit. Our soul is comprised of our knowledge, emotions, and actions, and it's what makes us the unique people we are. Our spirit is what fills us with life itself and is to do with our relationship with God. It is only our bodies that die and eventually break down into dust over time; our spirit and soul live forever and have to go somewhere after the physical body dies. Heaven or Hell are these places. If you have made it right with God by accepting His son, you get to live forever in Heaven, a place where you would never again worry that you cannot provide for your family and yourself or experience anything bad. You'd be healthy forever, and you'd have a job you love so much it won't even feel like work! You'd be so happy you'd not be able to contain yourself at all! I know Heaven and Hell are a lot to grasp, but it's important to know that people will live forever in one or the other after their bodies pass away. This will happen to everyone, and only after we die will we finally, in soul and spirit, encounter God face to face the way we see each other now. Until then, we just have to go on faith that He is with us."

Could this be so? Gus pondered the pearls of wisdom as he took another sip of his water. When he had laid eyes on his deceased father's body prior to burial, he knew that form with Cicero Holiday's face was no longer his pop, just an empty, nonresponsive body that couldn't love his wife and sons anymore. If this was true, where did Cicero actually go? If everybody goes to either Heaven or Hell, in which one did he end up? Did the fallen blacksmith/armor bearer get cleansed of the sin nature somehow before he died so he could be in Heaven, or was it too late for him, thus forcing him to remain forever in Hell, a place of torment that sounded like it was extracted right from a horror film? The very thought of his father's possibly being trapped in a permanent torturous place such as Hell caused Gus's hand to tremble so violently, he dropped his still half full goblet of ice water into his lap!


	8. Drawn

Chapter 8 – Drawn

"What if there's a bigger picture; What if I'm missing out. What if there's a greater purpose I could be living right now." My Own Little World by Matthew West

"Oh no!" the mortified Roman exclaimed as the tiny stream ran down his leg and dripped onto the braid rug under his feet. "I'm terribly sorry; I know water is no friend to a wood floor. Tell you what, I'll replace any boards that get warped." He set the goblet on the coffee table and Turned to the fellow who shared his perch, inquiring as his cheeks flushed beetroot red, "I didn't get you, did I?"

"Oh, that's OK, my boy," Erudus, the gentle, bespectacled man reached over and patted Gus's shoulder. "If I felt the cold water, it means I am alive. Hahahahaha!" Thankfully, the senior citizen's toga hadn't been splattered with the spray of ice water; only a couple drops and one lone ice chip ran down his ankle and rested upon the top of his foot between his sandal straps.

"Don't worry about it, Gus; Since I started hosting these groups, I've lost count of how many times someone spilled something on the floor or furniture," Elliquus forgave his guest for the minor incident with the wave of the hand as his wife darted into the kitchen to fetch some towels.

"Thanks, Elliquus, I don't know what got into me," casting his eyes upon the small puddle in his lap, he sighed, "but I sure know what got onto me. Guess I shouldn't have put that lime in my water." He reached for a handful of napkins so he could sop up the liquid before he would accidentally dump it on the floor upon his rising from his seat.

"If you want to clean up your toga, you can use some liquid soap on that wet part. The guest bathroom still stinks from fresh wallpaper paste; you'd better use the master bathroom … up the stairs and the second door on the right. The soap is on the left hand side of the sink, just be sure to use the yellow dispenser; the pink one is hand lotion. There are plenty of extra towels in the linen closet if you need them."

"Thank you," Gus gratefully accepted the kind offer and wove among the many occupied chairs before approaching the stairs. He had disappeared to the floor above when Gloria had dropped to the site of the spill to soak up the scattered ice chips and lime flavored water.

Not wishing to either miss any more of the teaching or to hold it up altogether because of his clumsiness, Gus labored as quickly as he could to clean the spot out of his toga, for it just wouldn't do for him to spend the rest of his visit appearing as if he had suffered from a bout of incontinence. He liberally applied the soft soap to the stain, the sweet aroma filling his nostrils and the pale yellow substance lifting the green tinted water from his clothing. When he had finished the application of the make shift spot remover, he dabbed away the excess soap with a sea foam green hand towel he found in the small linen closet that was situated along the wall perpendicular to the doorway.

Whoever built this house didn't think of the possibility that someone might want to have both the bathroom and closet doors open at the same time, he silently observed, noting the storage space was in a rather stupid place, for when the bathroom door stood open, it blocked access to the closet. He spied the clothes hamper in the corner and lightly thumped the wall just above it. It would be an easy job to knock down that wall, shift the closet over, and put the hamper under the window next to the waste basket, the contractor in him noted before turning to wash the layer of soap from his hands. He was ready to discard the towel into the hamper when he stood upright to inspect his mirror image for the absence of the water spot. Though he was relieved to have covered up the appearance of the stain enough to return to the group with no further embarrassment, something else had captured his attention. Once again, Gus found that the expression in his eyes had stopped him in his tracks; only now, it wasn't because they reflected emptiness or the dead burned out shell of a man he had been, now they manifested a longing that Gus had never known before, not even when he waited with great anticipation for the day he took Laurie to be his bride. Disappointment and despair made way for deep desire, and he found himself wondering if there was something more to Christianity than he had originally believed, if this faith was the key to the contentment he had sought in vain his entire adult life.

"Augustus, I have known for years the desires of your heart, and I long to bestow them upon you. I know you still seek your purpose in this life and have not found it on your own. Blessings like you have never known before, or even expected, are stored up for you; however, you are not yet prepared to receive them." There it was again, that gentle specter who never ceased to confound him since his accident.

"You again? Who are you?" Gus questioned in a stage whisper, his heart hammering in his chest. After all these encounters, it finally dawned on him that he was not literally hearing this voice with his ears the way he heard Elliquus downstairs; he was hearing the words within his mind the same way one recalled a memory or a song that would get stuck in one's head. Was this possibly how the other men heard God? Could this be why the apparition's voice sounded more like the rushing waters than like that of a fellow human being?

"I am the way, the truth, and the life," was all the presence said in reply.

"Come again?" The family man blinked in bewilderment.

"Harkin unto my words, Augustus; listen to all Elliquus is teaching you today and in future weeks, and all will go well with you."

Mr. Holiday's eyebrows shot up in surprise! "How's that? I just got the daylights scared out of me down there; that's your idea of all going well with me?"

"Sometimes the truth is hard to hear, but in the end you're better off for it. At this precise juncture, do not be concerned with what has happened to your earthly father; you must concentrate on getting to know your Heavenly Father. This is why I have brought you to these men and women, so they can guide you on this journey on which I am sending you."

"What are you talking about? What journey?" Gus slapped his right palm against the polished marble countertop.

"You will know soon enough. You must listen to your new friends, Augustus Holiday; listen to them with all your heart and everything these folks are telling you will begin to make sense to you." Now the mysterious presence was using not only the forty-three year old's given name, but his last name as well! Was he trying to emphasize a point that He insisted Gus take seriously with no questions or protestations?

A fleeting glance at his wrist watch served as a reminder that he could not remain holdup in another man's bathroom all morning, so Gus sighed heavily and addressed his spiritual company before opening the door to return downstairs. "Whatever you say. I don't understand half of what you're telling me, but if it's so all fired important, then I'll do it."

"Oh, let me see that," Gloria clucked as she approached Gus the moment he reached the bottom stair. She stooped down and carefully examined the hardly noticeable damp spot. "I think your toga should be all right once you throw it into the wash; as it is now, you'd have trouble telling you spilled anything on it."

"Thank you, I'm sure glad to hear that; looking like I piddled on myself wasn't exactly the first impression I had in mind to leave with you folks." Normally the Holiday patriarch would have politely resisted the hostess's doting over him in this fashion; however, he realized her intensions of kindness and was genuinely relieved to have done a fair enough job in hiding the stain. That was normally Laurie's area of expertise, especially since Gus, a stocky man, was wont to drop his dinner on himself at least once or twice a week.

"And if worse comes to worse and the stain doesn't come out, just bring that toga to my wife, and she'll dye it so it looks like new," Aimius voiced his offering on behalf of his better half. He was certain the spot would be gone; however, he wanted to make it known that something could be done if necessary.

"Thanks, Aimius. I'll keep that in mind but hope I won't have to ask that of her. Why should she have to do extra work because of my butter fingers?" Mr. Holiday graciously accepted the kind offer in hopes he wouldn't have to put the lady out on his account. He returned to his seat next to Erudus and found a newly filled goblet of lime flavored ice water sitting beside his refreshments on the coffee table. "I hope I didn't holdup your class too much, Elliquus."

"Oh no, not at all. You didn't miss anything, Gus; we've just been giving Corticus a friendly butt kicking for forgetting his lyric sheets at home. Normally he plays his guitar and leads us in song following the lessons."

"Which means we're going to have to sing an ear worm song today," Healthia commented, nudging Corticus in the ribs and grinning widely at him, thus delivering the message there were no hard feelings what so ever.

The merry sound of chuckles filled the room before Elliquus retrieved the scroll that contained his message notes.

"You can relax, Gus, the worst part of the lesson is over now. I realize the talk about Hell would be a bit much for a newcomer, especially one who is unused to what we study here." The leader acknowledged his guest's uneasiness and wanted to provide some assurance and comfort before continuing with the lesson. He then unrolled the scroll and began to teach once more, keeping an eye on his newest visitor's facial expressions so he could pause or explain when necessary. "Before our little unplanned break, we were talking about embracing Jesus Christ and accepting the sacrificial death he suffered for us so we can enjoy a relationship with God in heaven. We also touched upon us being comprised of a physical body that does die and is buried, and the soul and spirit, which are immortal and do end up living forever in Heaven or hell. Gus, you said you had viewed your father before he was buried? If this isn't too personal of a question for you, did you notice anything quite different about him?"

Under normal circumstances, Gus wouldn't sit spilling his guts to a bunch of strangers; however, the second he opened his mouth, the words flowed out like waters after a flood gate had been opened. He had just met these fine folks and found himself feeling as comfortable with them as if he were sitting in the barber's chair talking a blue streak as he was getting a haircut.

"It was the oddest thing I had ever seen. There he was lying there, and they did such a good job making him presentable that you'd almost think he was sleeping. The thing was he was so still it was creepy; his chest didn't rise and fall; there was nothing left of him except that shell. I never told anyone this because I didn't expect them to believe me, but I felt kind of confused. There I was looking right at him, but something told me my dad was gone. He was there but not there at the same time. OK, are you guys as confused as I was … and still am?"

"You're making perfect sense, Gus. You saw your father's body with your eyes but sensed the departure of his spirit and soul with your heart. To be honest, our bodies are nothing but raiment for our spirit and soul while we are here on Earth. Then when our time here is up, we shed these bodies and go right to God."

"We leave our bodies when we die? We don't just disappear into oblivion after we're buried?"

"Oh no, we sure don't. When you pass away, you are immediately taken to a place that is filled with a warm, brilliant, rich, soft light that you could never imagine for the life of you, let alone replicate with the most modern of technology. You are filled with such feelings that you cannot fathom. You won't be able to contain yourself for all the joy that radiates around you. This is when you will meet God face to face for the first time, and your knee will surely bow to Him." Seeing that Gus was again engaged in concentration and comprehension, Elliquus continued the teaching for not only the newest participant in the house but for the entire assembly. "God loves every one of us with more fervor than we can imagine, deeper than the oceans and higher than the mountains. The intensity of His love is so much so that we will be so awestruck by it that we'll want to fall down, dance, laugh, shout, sing, do whatever we feel led to do in His presence!" He panned around the room as he likened a meeting with God to something that all members of the group, single or married with or without children, could relate to. "Just imagine the great joy and excitement you felt upon finally arriving at a party to which you have been looking forward for weeks," he pointed out, his eyes falling upon Neddia, who sat nibbling on a handful of white chocolate covered pretzels. "For the newlyweds among us, think of how it was seeing your spouse lying next to you on the morning after your wedding night. And for those of you who are blessed to be parents, think back to the euphoria and fascination that bubbled within you the moment you received the news of your first born's arrival. Take the great joy all of you felt when experiencing any of these things and magnify that a quadrillion fold, and you still couldn't scratch the surface and wrap your head around how grand it will be to stand before He who created the universe and every living thing in it!"

His eyes wide as saucers, Gus sat frozen in his tracks, listening with rapt attention to Elliquus' every word. A shower of emotions washed over his heart and soul: shock, awe, and the deepest longing he had ever known in his life!

"For all those who have made things right with God and accepted the love of Jesus Christ and believe that Jesus laid down his life in our place, they get to spend their eternity in this wonderful home that we cannot grasp with our finite minds here on Earth. They can live forever with God and never experience crying or sorrow again. Sadly, for the folks who do not come to this decision to embrace Jesus, they must first look into the tear filled eyes of that one who loves them ever so deeply, who now aches for that person. He loves these people so much that the grief isn't for Himself, but for the lost one who must now be harshly and ruthlessly torn from Him and forced to spend eternity in that horrible place where comfort and peace would never again be known, for separation from Him would be permanent." He ceased his oration when he beheld the stricken look in Gus's eyes.

"OK, I've lost count of how many times you guys have compared God to a parent, and I appreciate that you're doing that so someone like me could relate; but that doesn't look to me like it fits the pattern of what a parent does. Laurie and I have sent one of our kids to their rooms when they misbehave, but we've always told them they could come out when they can behave themselves. It looks to me like God doesn't give you that same chance. If He loves us so much, why does He send people to such a horrible place forever? Can't they just go until they learn their lesson and then come back to Him? Why should it be permanent?"

"I realize it does make God look inflexible to those who don't know Him very well yet, so let me see if I can explain it to you this way. Since God and Heaven are perfect, someone who has died but still hasn't accepted Jesus as Messiah is stained with the sin nature and cannot enter heaven because only people cleansed by Jesus can live there. Do we allow people to track muddy footprints on our clean floors or encourage each other to hang around with peers who would be a bad influence on us? No. It's the same with God; He's just trying to keep all possibilities of evil away from Heaven and its inhabitants. As a father, you can relate to God in this respect; you wouldn't want your son to pal around with a bad crowd who would get him into excessive drinking or smoking, nor do you want your daughter to bring home a boyfriend who could turn out to be a wife beater if given the chance. I gather from what you are saying the whole forever thing is sticking in your craw, and I will tell you this for what it's worth. We have our whole physical lives to come to know God and make things right with Him; then our future in heaven is assured, and we don't have to worry about Hell after we have died. He truly doesn't want us to have to go there, but if we do not embrace Jesus and the high price he paid for us, it's the same thing as saying, 'No thanks" to eternity in Heaven. Since we go to one or the other, the only place someone rejecting Heaven would end up would have to be Hell. He doesn't send us there; we do that ourselves by the decision we make concerning Jesus, and that hurts Him very badly. Yes, I'm repeating myself a lot, but sometimes that's how God drives points home, and this is a very important one, far more important than where we live or what job offer we accept. I digress. If we hated failing our own parents while growing up, how much more so would we hate to break God's heart and say in an indirect way that we don't want to spend eternity with Him?" Upon uttering this final sentence, Elliquus' eyes welled up, and his voice cracked as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

All at once, a profound sense of sorrow swept over Gus, and the image of his late father's face flashed before him, an image that nearly broke his heart into smithereens. Memories of when a sixteen year old Augustus sat in the principal's office receiving his sentence for helping some other classmates instigate a food fight that eventually involved the entire eleventh grade during the lunch hour that day came rushing to the foreground of his mind. Because of him and the other boys involved, the junior class then had to sit in assigned seating under heavy attendance for the rest of the semester. To add insult to injury, the offending students faced three days of out of school suspension and two weeks of after school detention. Worse than any punishment the principal could dole out was the hurt and disappointment that darkened Cicero Holiday's countenance as he had to pick up his disciplined teenager and drive him home. It didn't take a highly intelligent mind to deduce that Gus had to work very hard through the rest of the school year and half of the summer to gradually regain his father's respect. It was difficult enough to bear the fact it took a month of being on restriction at home and more proving himself than he could recall to stand in his dad's good graces once more; however, with God there was no turning back and making up for the offence, for one cannot fix his wrongs if he is dead. The realization slammed into Gus's mind that if he was to make things right with God, who loved him more than he could fathom, he had to do it while still alive, and his soul ached with the question of how to do that!

Noticing that Gus sat absently twirling his water goblet around and around in his fingers and the gaping mouths and eyes of a few "baby Christians" as new converts were entitled by the group, Elliquus glanced to each one's visage with soft, fatherly compassion crossing his features. "I hope I haven't frightened or upset any of you, but I feel it's very important for you to know the truth. Unfortunately, we don't have the privilege of selecting our time to pass away; that is up to God. This means we must be sure we're right with Him at all times, for we have no idea when we will finally get to heaven to see Him. Nobody knows that better than any of us who have suffered a sudden death in the family where the departed loved one's eternity is unknown to everyone else. Please take these words I'm telling you to heart and feel free to talk to me any time you want night or day with any questions or concerns or prayer requests."

"If accepting Jesus is the only way to get rid of the sin nature and be allowed into Heaven, how do you do that?" Gus wanted to know, hungering with every fiber of his being over how to do what was right in the Eyes of this powerful God who had captured his attention, causing all reservations concerning Christianity to evaporate. "You keep saying you have to accept Jesus; I've heard it for almost a week, but what exactly is that all about?"

"Had Macius or any of these other men told you of how people used to have to appease God with animal sacrifices to atone for their sins?" Upon seeing Gus's nod, he continued, "Jesus, who is sometimes called the Lamb of God, lived among the Israelites, teaching them all about the kingdom of God. Well, the Pharisees didn't like that because it didn't mix well with their rules and regulations that they prioritized. They felt threatened by Jesus and plotted to have him killed, looking for all excuses to do so. Eventually, Jesus was sentenced to crucifixion, though he was completely innocent. This was part of God's plan, for Jesus, the perfect man who could never sin, bore our sins and their attendant punishments upon his back, thus making the perfect atonement for all of us who accept him into our hearts and gain salvation. A very easy way to remember the steps to salvation can be summed up as follows. Remember your ABC's: A, admit you are a sinner who can never enter into Heaven without Jesus' cleansing; B, believe in Christ's being condemned by the Pharisees and put to death on the cross; and C, confess your faith that when he died as the perfect sacrifice, he took your deserved punishment upon his innocent back so you can be with God." The group leader knew he had to choose his next words carefully, for he did not wish to see Gus make a premature decision, only to have his new found faith take off like a catapulted rock and come crashing down hard before too long; nor did he want to discourage him from joining the Christian family altogether. Please, Father, let me say the words You want me to speak to this man, for I cannot and will not cause this soul to remain lost, he silently prayed before continuing. "One thing to bear in mind, when you do this, it's not anything to be taken lightly and must come right from the very depths of your heart. It's not enough to simply say the words "I love Jesus' but not really mean it; you wouldn't like for your wife to say she loves you but not mean it, and God is no different. He wants us to be certain we love Him and are ready and willing to be in a personal relationship with him forever. I sense your curiosity has been sparked, and you want to know more about God and how to accept Him; however, Christianity is a commitment that is even stronger than that of a marriage and must be entered into in Ernest. Since you have had little to no exposure to God until a few days ago and are already showing such interest, I don't think it will be long before you are ready to make the decision whether or not to accept Jesus for yourself someday." When Mr. Holiday had consumed a chocolate covered pretzel and aimed prodding eyes his way, Elliquus feared he had deterred the seeker, but the next question to issue forth from Augustus' mouth might as well have been cued to him by an angel from Heaven above!

"is there something I still have to do, take a class, read a scroll, go to an interview, whatever I have to do, just tell me please."

"Actually, Gus, you just have to keep doing what you're doing. Everyone becomes ready at different times during their walks as what we call seekers. There is no formula; you don't attend five classes, read ten scrolls and sit through two interviews before you get accepted as a Christian. I can tell you with certainty that you will know beyond a shadow of a doubt when both your head and heart are properly prepared to accept Jesus. Believe me when I say I have seen many seekers accept Jesus with only head knowledge but not heart knowledge, and I've seen how difficult their walk has been … far more difficult than it had to be. If you're one of these who operate better with instructions, then here you go: A) Keep coming here on Sundays. B) Call me any time you want with any questions you may have. C) Continue talking about God with Macius and the other guys who spend their lunch hours in the park. D) Allow God to have His way in you, mind, heart, and soul. And E) Listen to and obey whatever God is telling you. Do all these things and God will help you and direct you in what you need to do and when you need to do it. I hope I am making sense here; what it all boils down to is trusting us and trusting God. It might sound overwhelming to you now, but it will all come together with each step you take. God only lights our path with a lamp that allows us to see just a step or two in front of us, but we still get to our destinations safely one step at a time."

Feeling the same deep desires like he did when he wanted some of his mother's homemade cookies in the middle of the day, Gus yearned for God and whatever he needed in order to stand in good stead with him. Of course, like with his mother's insistence that the cookie jar was off limits until after dinner, the mysterious presence reminded him that salvation, too, had its appointed hour.

"Augustus, not now, you will know when your time comes. Trust me; I will not let you be lost."

For what it was worth, the Roman silently accepted his Creator's words, not daring to reply aloud before this assembly. All right, so God wanted to see him embrace Jesus, but felt that today was not the proper time? His mind affixed to Elliquus' every word, he drank in as much of the remainder of the lesson as he could retain, and the rest of the teaching breezed by all too quickly for him! Suddenly, it was time for Elliquus to lift up the closing prayer and for the service to end in song.

"Our Heavenly Father, we love You and we thank You for this day of Your creation, and we thank You for allowing Your words to flow forth, and thank You for allowing me the honor of being Your vessel. We thank You for taking the headache pain away from our new friend, Gus, and we thank You once again in advance for healing Annia of the flu bug she is currently battling. We pray that You would be with us as we enter into our time of worship, and may it be a sweet fragrance in Your nostrils. Please also allow Gus's family to arrive soon so they can partake of our meal with us. Please also keep Your hand upon all of us as we go through this day of learning and fellowship. In the Name of Jesus Christ we pray, Amen!"

The assembly who sat around Gus with their heads bowed echoed their "Amen" and popped upright with the most peaceful expressions the newbie had ever seen coloring their features. Then Erudus began softly rendering the chorus to an old song Gus had only heard while attending summer camp as a child, a song he never dreamed was a favorite among Christians!

"A-men, A-men, A-a-men, Amen, Amen." To this sudden bursting into song and the fond memories it brought to light, Gus couldn't resist chuckling softly. The older man cast his eyes to the one with whom he shared the hassock and was stricken with a momentary flash of déjà-vous. Though he had never met him before, there was something about him that was vaguely familiar. His facial bone structure, the shape of his hands, and his eyes were physical traits which he had been certain belonged to another man he once knew from perhaps his days as a young or middle age adult. The trouble was any clear memory of this other gentleman escaped him, and he didn't want to drive himself crazy wracking his brain when he could enjoy the rest of the gathering. He could stew about it all he wanted when he returned home.

The rest of the congregation, who had also been smiling at the tender moment where their eldest member had made their newest addition laugh, soaked in the blessing of what they had just witnessed. They sat in a moment of silence before Corticus reached to the guitar beside his end of the couch, drew it into his lap, and began strumming the strings.

"Since I forgot the music sheets, we can just do a chorus that everybody either knows or can learn easily. Gus, these choruses I like to play are easy to pick up-"

"And hard to get rid of; they'll be stuck in your head for days if you're not careful," Healthia grinned before looping her arm around Corticus' shoulder and giving it a friendly squeeze.

"Of course, if you ask me, they're supposed to get stuck in your head. Don't forget, God loves to hear us singing them all week, not just when we're here on Sundays," the musician pointed out as he continued strumming the guitar strings, waiting for inspiration to claim him and direct him as to which chorus he should play. "how about I've got The Joy."

"Isn't that another kids' camp song?" Gus queried with arched eyebrows.

"Not the way we sing it. First the men sing 'I've got the joy' and the women echo 'joy'. Then the men and women alternate echoing the word 'joy' two more times. This repeats three times, and then we all sing together on the ladies third echo. Just watch us go through the first verse; then you should catch on." Corticus began playing the cords that accompanied the song the group was going to lift up to the Creator whom they praised and worshipped. "Clapping on the 2-4 beat …"

"I've got the joy," the men began to sing.

"Joy," the ladies echoed with glee.

"Joy," the men echoed as Erudus looped arms with Gus and encouraged him to clap with him, both men swaying in time to the music.

"Joy," the ladies echoed for the second time.

"Joy," the men echoed yet again for all they were worth.

"Joy!" the ladies lifted their voices in song.

The verse was repeated twice more; and when the second repetition was being sung, there was the slight alteration to the women's third echoing of the word joy.

"Joy," the whole group merrily lifted their voices together

"Down in my heart," Corticus cued, not missing one note on his guitar.

"Down in my heart," clap clap, "down in my heart," clap clap, "Down in my heart to stay, down in my heart to stay."

The congregation then repeated the song once again, this time with Gus feeling comfortable joining in; then the verses were lifted up with "love" and "light" before finishing out with a medley of the three. A crash of applause precipitously followed the song, lasting for fifteen seconds before the doorbell announced the arrival of a latecomer. Gloria rose from the pillow on which she sat and crossed over to the front door. "Good morning!" she cheerily chirped to the trio and their pet lion that stood on the front porch.

"Uh, hello, I'm Laurie Holiday," the somewhat shy lady nervously began. "My husband said we all had been invited over here, and we dropped him off a little while ago."

"Oh, yes, I think he told my husband you were arriving late. Please come in. My name is Gloria, and my husband is Elliquus; he's the gentle giant standing by the coffee table with the scroll in his hand." Her eyes fell upon Brutus before his paws could cross the threshold, and she smiled at Happy. "There's plenty of room in the back yard for your lion to play; just go up the driveway and find the back gate to the right of the garage. The rest of the children and Caesar, our own lion will have a ball with him."

"Thanks, Ma'am," Happy smiled before patting the oversized feline on his side so he knew to come with him. "Let's go, Brutus."

"Caesar and Brutus?" Precocia snickered at the historical reference and its respective irony as she and her big brother, out of the women's eyesight and earshot, ushered their pet to the back yard where all the other children, teenagers, and a playful lion were making merry while waiting for lunch to be served.

"I'm terribly sorry; we don't normally bring Brutus to strangers' houses, but he just can't be trusted alone with our food lately, especially the first couple of days after I do the shopping."

"Think nothing of it, Laurie, our furry friend is the exact same way; he has to stay in the back yard or garage when we have to leave food unattended, lest there be nothing for us to eat." With that, the ladies entered the home, where Laurie quickly approached her hubby, planted a kiss upon his cheek, and settled on the pillow Gloria had given up for her and tossed onto the floor between the hassock and Macius' swivel chair.

"Ahhh, newlyweds?" Erudus joked, a grin practically splitting his age creased features.

"Nope, it'll be twenty-one years this fall, October the eighteenth," Gus beamed as he looked lovingly into his wife's eyes. "And she's even more beautiful now than she was on our wedding day."

"Looks like she's already bought your present, Gus," Macius gestured to the large shopping bag next to Mrs. Holiday.

"Oh, that's just material for the family's new togas; I hope the bag isn't in the way. It looked like rain clouds were coming our way, and I didn't want it to get wet in our chariot."

"Oh, this is really you, Mr. Holiday!" Healthia laughed, deliberately fishing out the most feminine fabric and holding the peach floral cloth up for the whole congregation to see! They all broke into raucous laughter, the battle of wits resuming as the din settled down.

"Actually, I gave up floral prints last year," the victim of Healthia's good natured teasing was hatching some jocularity of his own. "I found out vertical stripes would hide my stomach and light blue would bring out my eyes," Gus playfully batted his eyes, causing guffaws to fill the room once more. "Jubulus, before she has a chance to say anything, you've got some smooching to do!" When obedience was rendered, the group's laughter morphed into applause!

After Laurie had returned the material to her shopping bag, she looked up at her life's partner, beholding the greatest blessing she could ever hope for; for the first time in she could not remember how long, Gus Holiday was laughing and fitting in with a circle of friends once again! Oh, if only this wasn't just a onetime invitation; if only these people would hold more of these pot luck lunches and invite him. Her beliefs proven true, she knew with every fiber of her being that friendship was more than just fun for him, but therapeutic. She made up her mind that after they ate, she would gather some of the other people's phone numbers and take it upon herself to invite these fine folks over if they didn't open their homes to Gus, for she never again could bear to see him slip into loneliness and irritation for want of a circle of close friends.


	9. Trials

Chapter 9 – Trials

"There's a battle between good and evil, and it's raging inside of me." – Battle by Chris August

Author's Note: I do not own the email on which the dream sequence at the end of the chapter is loosely based.

The days passed into weeks, and before anyone knew it, a month had gone by since that fateful night when Gus had been injured in the infamous windstorm; thus, commencing the chain of events that ultimately led to his having a new circle of friends and putting an end to the months of loneliness and discontent that used to hang over him like a black rain cloud. Things were looking up for him at last; the dressing around his middle was finally a thing of the past, so he no longer needed to unroll plastic wrap around himself when he wanted to bathe; he was gradually coming back to a normal routine at work as he had to regain his strength after having been on medical restriction for so long; and he was looking forward to his regular spiritually routed conversations either at the park or Elliquus' house! Though Laurie, Happy, and Precocia soon registered the Sundays at Elliquus' house were friendship gatherings of a Christian nature, they figured that the so-called oddity was just part of something they had to overlook, for they realized the importance of Gus's maintaining his new found friendships. Like the Holiday patriarch, they had not one grain of understanding just who God or Jesus Christ was; All Laurie knew was Jesus was a name frequently mentioned on the news when she was a little girl who was far too young to grasp, much less appreciate, the broadcasts covering current events.

The Holiday siblings, though, knew something of a more disturbing nature thanks to their schoolteachers. When they were in the classroom under the tutelage of these trained professionals, they learned of the strange ways of the Christians, and they were so uninformed that they knew not if this was truth, rumor, or the Emperor's using the school as an indoctrination center to turn young Romans against this new faith and relationship based population. While Laurie believed Gus was just politely listening to Elliquus' teachings, likely forgetting about them later, Happius and Precocia dropped subtle warnings to their father to be very careful what he listened to and took home while spending the day with his new friends.

Sadly, though Gus hadn't become a Christian, just associating with them in the public square was enough to have neighbors and townsfolk wonder if he had fallen under the Christians' influences; after all, he no longer ate at his workplace, always partaking of his mid day meal in the park with macius and company. Those who didn't believe he was under some sort of spell simply were left with the impression the blow to the head he had taken the month before had knocked a screw loose, thus causing him to take leave of his senses. Now, if this only affected Gus and those whom he knew directly, that would not be a problem; however, when those same townspeople had sons and daughters in classes with Precocia and Happius, the Holiday children, too, would feel the sting of ostrisization because of association with a group of folks whom they didn't understand.

It happened again, and this was getting old very fast. Precocia Holliday, once blithe of spirit on a daily basis and a girl who would promise to blossom into a popular teenager one day, now found herself eating her lunch alone for the second straight week in a row. To the best of her knowledge, she hadn't done anything that caused her friends to take umbrage with her, so why was she suddenly treated as though she carried a highly contagious disease? What had happened in the last couple of weeks that transformed her from the sweetheart of the sixth grade to the strangest one of the student body? Those who didn't deride her openly whispered behind her back while her closest friends cast eyes full of regret or pity her way. Why had her entire class turned against her?

Like a bolt from the blue, she found the answer to the aforementioned question rush through her brain with the fury of the mightiest river at the height of flood stage. Wasn't it quite recently when some of her friends' parents reportedly saw her father begin to have his lunch breaks in the park and engaging in animated discourse with a group of Christians. Precocia, wise beyond her eleven years, knew, thanks to her teacher, that many people in Rome saw Christians as superstitious folks with weird ways, so why would her beloved daddy deliberately keep company with them outside the privacy of the Sunday gatherings to which the family was invited every week; surely, there had to be other places for him to eat if he truly didn't get on with his new co-workers at the construction company. All she knew was that he'd been engaging in this behavior for some time now. Certainly, Precocia couldn't be punished for the friends her dad chose to keep; after all, if her peers would never meet those of her parents, there should be no problem. But then again, if her classmates' families had reason to believe Gus had adopted the Christians' ways, would they forbid their children from associating with Precocia because they feared her mind would be poisoned or she would poison the other kids' minds?

Concluding that she could either wrack her brain fruitlessly or study as she ate, she unrolled the section of the news scrolls she brought in for her social studies class and searched for the article she wanted to read concerning the fund raiser for the victims of last month's wind storm. To add insult to injury, she found that she, in her haste to head for school before being marked late, grabbed the wrong scroll and found a front page article on those "Odd for God" Christians, and the picture that was featured caused her heart to plummet to her sandals! Right there for all of Rome to see was the monochrome image of Gus Holiday sitting hunched over on a park bench with his lunch box at his feet, his right arm resting against his knee while the fingers of his left hand curled tightly around his wrist. He was surrounded by men who were close enough to place their hands on his back or shoulders! A mustached man who looked to be the group's leader even had his right hand laid squarely upon the top of Gus's bowed head! All the men appeared to have their own heads bowed, and the apparent leader's mouth looked to be open as if he were raining down some sort of pronouncement upon the suffering fellow.

"That has to be someone who looks like Daddy; his face isn't' showing very well, and lots of men can look alike in black and white pictures." Her vain attempts to reassure herself fell into cureless ruin when she noticed the shadow of a cloth headband that was secured around the target of the group's petitions, and she recalled that Gus had been unable to wear his laurel wreath when he was first released from the hospital because of the intense discomfort that came with his chronic headaches, applying Happy's bandanna as a makeshift cold compress in a futile attempt to combat the pain. "Maybe they're just trying to be nice," Precocia reasoned to herself as she nibbled from her sandwich, wanting to make sense of the incredible site she beheld on the parchment. "Teacher said that those men like to … what do they call it … pray for people when they're sick, and we all know that Daddy had been complaining about screaming headaches since he had that chariot accident. Maybe they meant well and thought they had to do whatever they do to get they're God to make him well? Maybe he told them his medicine wasn't working, and they took it upon themselves to do what they do for sick people?" Sadly, no words she could whisper to herself offered her any semblance of solace, for something told her that this was far more than the actions of a desperate man's going to any and all measures to free himself from the constant headaches that gripped him since his accident.

As the dampness of a cold, rainy night seeps into the bones of an arthritic, a shivery uneasiness settled throughout Precocia's entire body when a little boy from the first grade with a mop of curly, light brown hair, approached her and glanced to the scroll that lay open upon the lunchroom table. His facial features transformed before her very eyes, as his sympathetic expression morphed into one of understanding, he uttered words that could only have appeared in Precocia's worst nightmare!

"Nobody eats with me either; their mommies and daddies don't like my mommy and daddy joining the church people. They said they can't play with me anymore. Which one's your daddy?" He pointed to the photograph that caused great distress for the older child. "See, there's my daddy," he smiled as he indicated the image, his little finger falling upon the profile of one man, Macius, who stood resting his left hand on Gus's right shoulder.

For a moment, Precocia scrutinized the little boy, trying to see if she had met him during one of the Sunday playtimes in Elliquus' back yard. She spent a lion's share of the time with the other two girls who were there and the pet lions; therefore, she didn't pay attention to who the boys were and what they looked like. Perhaps she would look out for this lad the next visit. "Oh no, I think you're a little mixed up. My dad's not one of them; he just went to the park because he likes to eat his lunch there. I think he complained to them about having a headache, and they just went and surrounded him. I'll bet he didn't know what they were doing until it was too late."

"My daddy says the church people don't force you to be with them; they just want to help people wherever they can, and they sure do like to be happy a lot of the time and show others how to be happy too. Mommy says it's some kind of good news or something."

"Happy? Wouldn't it confuse people? How does sitting like that cure a headache? Wouldn't they give my Dad medicine or tell him about a home remedy that he didn't know about? I'll bet that's what he was expecting them to do," Precocia worked ardently to convince herself as well as this little boy who was her first lunchroom companion in weeks.

"Are you sure your daddy's not a church man?" the lad inquired.

"It might look that way, but it can't be true. He'd never do that; he's been a proud Roman for as long as I can remember. He routes for the Trojans; served in the Roman army as a charioteer before he married my mom, pays taxes to Caesar, and registers for the census early. I think those headaches had to be really terrible for him to get desperate enough to get help from people who have strange ways and are really superstitious."

"What's … superspitchis?" the youngster queried as he perched on the seat across from Precocia.

"Superstitious … It means they have really odd beliefs and sometimes even cast spells on people." The Roman girl reached for her milk carton and took a sip. "I just hope those men didn't cast a spell on Daddy. Maybe that's why he keeps going back to them all the time; someone put a spell on him."

"My daddy says spells are bad and we shouldn't do them, or we'll get in trouble," the tot commented before retrieving some animal crackers from the pocket of his little toga and cramming the handful of small sweets into his mouth.

"If it's not a spell, then how could these men have changed my pop? He was never like this before. He's been acting kind of odd since his accident … and even more so since he started going to this man's house on Sundays and eating his lunch in the park instead of at work."

"My daddy and his friends like to make new friends all the time and be friends with someone named Jesus. Maybe your daddy just wants to have friends too."

Oh, if only gaining new friendships was the only reason for Gus's repeated encounters with the Christians; if only the pre-teenager could have never lost the wide eyed innocence experienced by the younger child who sat with her. The problem could be so simply addressed and resolved; however, something in the very core of Precocia's personage kept nibbling at her mind and telling her that there was far more going on than she could ever suspect. She knew from this moment forward that she would have to keep a close eye on her father's actions and behavior patterns, for if he did begin to emulate the Christian company with whom he was now associating, the entire family's lives could be complicated if what the teacher said was correct.

The school bell heralding the arrival of lunchtime at Roman High sent its shrill signal through the building, and countless teenagers gleefully poured out of the classrooms anticipating an hour to ingest the cafeteria's idea of lunch and, more importantly, socialize among themselves without worrying about teachers putting an embarrassing stop to it in front of everyone else in the room.

Happius had just lifted his backpack to his locker, which just happened to be directly above that of his friend, Marc, a youth whom Gus had rescued from drowning in a freezing lake sixteen months ago, resulting in Mr. Holiday's hospitalization with pneumonia. He had just about had the bag inside the locker when he discovered that the unreliable zipper had too easily slipped open, thus resulting in his being showered in wayward scrolls and school supplies!

"Not again!" the teen growled as he retrieved the fallen items and carelessly crammed them into the offending bag once more before hastily stuffing it into the locker and slamming the door shut. "Hey, Marc, remind me to ask Groovia to grab me a safety pin from her Home Ec. class; I don't think this stupid thing will stay zipped anymore."

"Sure, but why not buy a new backpack at the school store?" Marc stashed his own bag into his locker and swung the door closed with his foot.

"It would be a moot point; I'm starting college in the fall, and I wanted to get a new pack once I'm on campus. I can put up with pinning this one shut for now." Hap responded with a smile as the boys headed for the cafeteria.

"Uh, Happy, can I talk to you about something?" Marc nervously began, popping his knuckles as they walked past the principal's office on the left and the school nurse's office to their right.

"Sure, what's up?"

"You know how much I admire your pop and would do anything for him after he saved my life that winter. OK, I thought he was wacked for asking me to take Snobia to the prom last year, but when you told me your landlord was coercing him into fixing her up, I kind of understood why he did it. Well, I know you'll think I'm crazy for saying this, but … is someone trying to force him to say and do odd things again?"

"Come again?" Happius arched his eyebrows in confusion as the pair passed through the lunchroom doors and took their place in line.

"There is no easy way to put this, but uh … Hap, I don't know if you know it or not, but your dad's been hanging out in the park with some of those guys said to be Christians. My mom told me she was taking a shortcut through there on her way to a doctor's appointment, and she saw him eating lunch with them, even showing interest in what they were saying."

"Come on, marc, aren't you jumping to conclusions; even if they are Christians, couldn't they have been talking about sports or something else not related to religion?"

"I don't know, Hap, but what my dad saw in the news scroll tells me they weren't talking about sports. There was a front page article on Christians, and a picture went with it. They showed somebody who looks a lot like your pop all hunched over and a bunch of guys surrounding him, probably practicing some kind of strange ritual over him. You'd better get him out of there before it's too late and he has to go somewhere to get deprogrammed."

Suddenly a sinking feeling overcame Happy as the puzzle pieces started falling into place. Yes, his father spent Sundays at the private setting of a Christian man's home, and he was keeping company with new friends in the park because he could no longer stand eating with his co-workers; however, he had been certain Gus blocked out any of the Christians' specific influences. Now, Marc's observations caused him to think twice about what had come over his dad, for Gus's grumpiness had ebbed considerably since he began associating with these new men. Was it the side benefits of new friendships, or was it the result of a spell? Until he gathered more information from observations at home, he had to give his father the benefit of the doubt. "I don't think we have to worry about that, Pop isn't acting any differently at home as far as we can tell, except that he's in a much better mood than he's been in a long time." Hap reached for a tray and flatware, passing them to his buddy before gathering some for himself.

"If this change in his mood is sudden, that's a red flag right there, buddy. You'll want to keep a close eye on him and seek help immediately if he is under a spell."

"He's probably on top of the world right now because he has new friends, something he hasn't had since all the other men he was close with had moved away or couldn't hang around with him anymore. Come on, we've even done it when making a new friend or when we first started going steady with a girl who takes your breath away. I'll bet Pop was like that when he was first married to Mom. Give him some time, and he'll get back to normal." The teenager paused momentarily when realization dawned upon him that marc could see the same evidence in his own family. "OK, should we assume your brother is under a spell because he's in such a good mood and acting like nothing will ever go wrong for him again, or do we just know he's going through a nice long cloud nine period because he's a newlywed?

"I honestly think what's going on with your pop and these new friends of his is something different from Harry's getting married. Harry fell in love; there was no superstition involved. Look, I'll take Snobia to Grad Night if your dad would just stay away from those guys; you know what Mr. Accademium said in social studies class; the … what did he call them … '_superstitionis novae ac maleficae'_ … could cast a spell on him if he's not careful."

"OK, OK, OK, I'll watch him, but if he does settle down after a little while, can we please drop the subject of spells?" Happy retorted with a hint of exasperation in his voice as he loudly laid his tray upon the metal rack and approached the institutional fare the school board fed to Rome's youth five days a week at the noon hour.

"All I can say is I hope you're right for his and all of the rest of your guys' sakes," Marc sighed, slipping his tray onto the rack and casting a disgusted glance at the unappetizing entrees.

Before anyone knew it, another weekend was upon the Holiday family, the Saturday night sky draping its star spangled cape over the city of Rome. Now that the clan was making the weekly traverse to Elliquus' home, they made the effort to retire for the night at a decent hour so they could all rise and bathe and not be late to the gathering that meant so much to Gus. Groovia had agreed that her and Happy's Saturday nights could be spent in front of a romance flick on TV with a big bowl of popcorn or dancing to his stereo provided they could go out for fun on Fridays. On this particular night, the whole family surrounded the television and enjoyed a family friendly tear jerking program Laurie had wanted to see for weeks since it was advertized in the evening scroll. The show was just about over when gravely snores emulated from the man of the house, who lay stretched out in his favorite chair, his feet propped upon the ottoman and his head slightly cocked to the left.

"Poor dear, he must be absolutely exhausted," Laurie softly commented after having switched off the TV before the closing credits finished scrolling the screen. "Maybe we should just let him sleep here for now, and he can always come to bed if he wakes up in the night. Come on,

kids, help me make him more comfortable." With that, she gingerly slipped Gus's laurel wreath off of him and wedged a throw pillow under his head so as to prevent neck cramps.

Happy gently took hold of his father's wrist and removed his watch so the family man would not inadvertently shift his position and bear his full weight upon and crush the timepiece while Groovia undid his sandals and swiftly slipped them off his feet, her charm bracelet quietly tinkling as she moved her right hand. Precocia crept over to the sleeping form and spread a homemade baby blue and white afghan over him, gently tucking one edge under his shoulder. Every tender touch caused the slumbering body to twitch; however, Gus did not awaken. Instead, each sensation the family meant for his comfort became props his brain would use in forming a very vivid dream!

"Hey you, get up!" a centurion's loud voice rent the silence while his hand that was none to gentle grasped Augustus Holiday by the left arm and roughly yanked him from off the prison issue bunk on which he lay. "It's time to go! You won't need this anymore; the laurel wreath is for worthy men, and you are nothing but flotsam!" With that, he precipitously yanked Gus's wreath from his head, crushed it under his heel, and then punched the prisoner hard enough to cause facial swelling! He then seized Holiday by both arms and thrust him forward.

Just outside the jail cell, another centurion stood with a heavy length of chain that he intended to use to restrain the detainee. He muttered insults and curses as he bound the iron chain around Gus and snapped the cuffs so tightly around his wrists and ankles the bewildered roman wondered how his blood still could circulate through his extremities.

"March!" the law enforcement officer commanded in a sharp voice, tearing Holiday away from the first guard and touching the tip of his sword to the captive's spine, thus forcing him to drag his feet to wherever they bid him go. The horrible clatter of his bonds assaulted Gus's ears with each laborious step he took, and he soon found himself being roughly thrown into a chair in the defendant's box within a courtroom.

The prosecutor entered the room and took his place at his own station, unrolling some scrolls and stabbing steely daggers to the defendant. He was the ugliest villain Gus had ever seen, his snarling countenance leaving the prisoner under the impression he either suffered from violent delusions, rabies, or a combination of the two. The only thing that tore his gaze away from this awful man was the entry of the very distinguished looking judge in full flowing robes, a man whom everyone in the court, save the prosecutor, automatically and gladly respected!

"Hear-ye hear-ye, this court is now in session!" a bailiff, a much taller and beefier version of Mr. Evictus, called out, stamping his staff on the floor and bringing everyone to order.

"We are here to determine the eternal destination of one Augustus Holiday; I see the defendant has chosen to represent himself. The prosecution may begin his opening arguments," the judge announced after having settled in his own comfortable seat behind the bench.

"Judge, My name is Beelzebub, and I am here to prove why this dog before you belongs in Hell," the prosecuting attorney's voice, which left the demonic presence sounding like he was both hissing and growling as he spoke, sent chills down Gus's spine. "Prove me wrong if you can, you worthless piece of trash!" he demanded as he rounded on the restrained Roman, spitting as he talked. "Judge," he again addressed the awesome one who presided over Holiday's case, "This man has proven himself to be a poor husband and father who does not value his family one bit. He refused to take his wife and children on a weekend vacation and got their apartment burglarized when he decided to take a free handout offered by the Southside Gang, some men who have become my personal friends. How does it feel to ruin your family's weekend?"

"Wait, I couldn't afford the kind of trip they wanted and thought that was the o-" Gus began, only to be cut off by the monstrous lawyer.

"Silence!" he loudly spat, again whirling around on one heel and staring down his victim. "_You_ aren't a supportive husband and father at all; _you_ balked about having to look for _your_ children's runaway lion; _you_ ignored _your_ howling pet because _you_ wanted to eat dinner rather than comfort him; _you_ abandoned _your_ wife and children in exchange for instant stardom; _you_ had to be prompted to spend time with _your_ son when he had girl problems; and _you_ told him to go get another girlfriend as if one could replace a girlfriend as easily as one changes under garments! Of course, what else can be expected from a man who assigns his family the same low level of value." With every utterance of "you" or "your" the thug verbally drew out the words and stabbed a bony finger in Gus's face, certain to put a great deal of emphasis on the aforementioned pronouns.

"I! LOVE! MY! FAMILY!" Gus protested with pleading eyes, his words tearing from the depth of his heart.

"The defendant is out of order," the judge stoically stated after loudly bringing down his gavel, producing the same frightening crack Kara Holiday used to as she slammed her potato smasher against the cutting board when halting her sons' squabbling.

"If you love your family, you wouldn't treat them as you have!" the wicked one snorted.

The horrible attack on the defendant's character played out for what felt like forever, the villainous scoundrel emphasizing every fault Gus had ever had in his lifetime. Unhappily, when Holiday tried in vain to defend himself, he was either interrupted by the prosecution or told by the judge he was out of order, his continuous arguments ultimately being put to a halt when the bailiff acknowledged a signal from the judge and quickly bound a thick cloth over the "unruly" prisoner's mouth. Because his chains only allowed him to reach his hands to just below chest level, he was unable to claw at and remove the gag. Now that the criminal was silenced until further notice, the arguments continued in spades until the closing statement was rendered.

"Will the defendant please rise and approach the bench?" the judge kept his voice glib, his jaw firmly set as the bailiff tore Gus from his seat and forcibly marched him before the honorable man. "Have you anything to say in your defense?" Upon receiving only a couple indistinct grunts from the shackled and manacled man, he cast a glance to the bailiff. "Please remove the restraint." Once compliance was issued and Gus's speech was restored, he continued, "Now you may present your case. Can you refute these arguments the prosecution has against you?"

"OK, nobody's perfect. I can't stand here and say I didn't do those things, but don't all the good things I did through my life matter here? I saved my son's best friend from drowning in a freezing lake; I went out on a limb to get my landlord's daughter a date for the junior prom; I knocked myself out trying to attend my daughter's music recital and play on the company bowling team on the same night; I stooped to dressing like a woman to get my wife out of a jam when she had to dress like a man and pose as me to save my job; even though it was done by accident, I got a bank robber captured; I had to have done something right to tie for AD sixty-three Father Of The year; and I _never_ left my family for stardom. That was just from a dream I had once; in fact, I confessed it was a fluke and not bravery that got that robber captured instead of letting everybody believe I was some kind of valiant hero who deserved fame."

"I'm sorry, sir, but those arguments are not enough to refute those of your opponent." With the thrice slamming of his gavel, the judge pronounced sentence. "Augustus Holiday, you have been found guilty as charged by the prosecution; you are sentenced to eternal torment in hell."

Gus was frozen in the spot where he stood, unable to do more than gulp down a lump in his throat. He couldn't even blink, so great was the shock from which he was currently suffering. Not even the sick feeling in his stomach or the instability of his legs could compare to the mental unrest he now felt rushing throughout his mind. As if the physical and mental symptoms weren't enough; his emotional well being was dashed into cureless ruin when the judge suddenly morphed into one whose hair and beard were as white as the driven snow, whose very presence was cast in such a rich glow and wrapped in a loving spirit. Unable to speak or even stand for one second longer, Gus collapsed to his knees, never once taking his saucer wide eyes away from the gentle entity. The worst was yet to come with the sad oration that came forth from the voice that Gus was beginning to recognize.

"Depart from me; I know you not." He spoke with the most heart wrenching pangs of disappointment shadowing his voice before a few tears rolled down his cheeks.

With no warning, the prosecuting attorney, laughing nefariously, locked a white hot metal collar that was attached to a five foot length of chain around Holiday's neck so tightly it was certain to cause severe burns and bruising and made breathing laborious at best. With a hard yank of the leash, he sent his newest victim sprawling on the floor and dragged his prone body out of the courtroom and down a dark corridor that suddenly took a sharp downward spiral into complete darkness where the echoes of screaming surrounded the condemned man from every angle. Struggling against his bonds, Gus tried to let out his most blood curdling scream; however, no sound issued forth from his tortured throat. Sure enough, he heard the clattering of his chains as he attempted to flail, but nothing could prepare him for the realization that those cries that sounded off all around him were his own wails! Then his entire body was enveloped by a prickly sensation as the dismal darkness and horrible din faded out, returning a trembling but now free Gus to his chair where Brutus quietly paced around him and nuzzled him in the neck, having caused the sleeper's brain to register it as the scorching choke chain used in the nightmare. Apparently the Roman had shifted during this brief period of slumber, as the blanket was now wrapped more snuggly around him, one corner resting lightly upon his cheek, thus being disguised as the restraints the imaginary centurion and bailiff used on him.

"Mr. Holiday? Are you all right?" Groovia gently approached the chair where one of her hosts for the night lay, still unable to move, save the shivering from his troubling vision. "Mr. Holiday, what's the matter? Happy, something's wrong; his eyes are starting to open, so he's awake, but I don't think he can hear me."

Happius crept over to the chair, gently draped Groovia's shawl around her shoulders and cast his eyes upon the form that was reclined before them. "Pop? You all right?"

"What … who's there … where am I?" Gus slurred so softly one had to strain to hear him.

Closely scrutinizing his parent's countenance and recalling any body and rapid eye movements, Hap realized this was the result of a nightmare and his father would have to pull himself out of it naturally. "I think he'll be OK in a few minutes; he must have had a really bad dream and has to wake up enough to know whatever it was isn't really happening; Precocia does this too," the teenager had become used to his father and little sister's nonplus state of mind following terrifying dreams and had faith that everything would be all right once he returned home.

"Hap, is that you?" Gus queried, his eyes slowly opening and his body gradually regaining mobility. "Can't be morning already," he commented as he realized he had fallen asleep in his chair, believing he had been there for hours since he had no memory of pulling the cover over himself and was without his wreath, watch, and sandals. "Hope your mother isn't in the bathroom; we've got to get to Elliquus' house early. It's my turn to bring the coffee."

"Take it easy, Dad, there's no hurry or anything like that. It's still Saturday night; Precocia's just gone to bed; Mom's sewing in your room; and I'm taking Groovia home. I have my key, so you can lock the door if you want to call it a night."

"OK, son, just remember to come right home; we have to get up early tomorrow." The patriarch scrambled to a standing position and tossed the afghan onto his chair, not bothering to fold it up properly. In a clearer state of mind, Gus would have known full well that Hap was aware of the hour the family planned to rise; however, he was still working to burn off the nightmare's fog.

"Yes, sir," the youth decided to humor his groggy parent as he, with his left arm around his girlfriend, padded to the door. "Good night, Pop; I'll try to be quiet when I come home."

"Good night, Mr. Holiday," Groovia peered over her shoulder and smiled to the older man, sauntering through the open door.

"Night, kids," Gus called before the door swung shut behind the teens and he trudged into the kitchen to help himself to a little snack and a goblet of cold water. "Man, what a nightmare," he muttered under his breath, dropping three peanut butter cookies onto a napkin and retrieving a drinking vessel. "That's the stuff horror flicks are made from."

"Who says it's a movie, Holiday; that's what will happen to you one day," the terrible voice of that monster in his dream assaulted Gus's brain, sounding every bit as malevolent as he did when the vision was playing. "You will be all mine. Tell me, do you prefer brass or iron fetters?"

"Augustus, do not listen to him; you are hearing a lie. There is a way to escape that fate."

Never in his life was Gus so relieved to hear the voice of the mysterious, yet benevolent apparition; at least he wouldn't have to face this unseen but very real foe unattended!

"Now there are two of you?" Gus retorted in a theatrical whisper as he filled his goblet to capacity and sat down to partake of his snack. "I'm hardly used to one of you guys; now I have another to deal with?"

"Augustus, I represent good while the other presence you sense stands for evil. Anyone or anything I love, he hates. Do not listen to him; hold onto me, and I won't let harm befall you."

Overwhelmed by now having two specters speaking to him, Gus tried in vain to settle his nerves with the consumption of his refreshments; however, the pleasure only lasted for as long as the taste of the sweet treats remained on his tongue. His stomach swirled like a cyclone so severely; it wouldn't surprise him if he ultimately tossed his cookies all over the kitchen floor! He made his way back into the living room and settled onto the couch, rubbing his gut in counterclockwise circles in an effort to end the tornado within.

"Augustus, you have new friends now. Let them hold you up and give you strength," the loving spirit kindly encouraged the troubled Roman.

"Call any of them at this hour, and they won't be your friends anymore," the baddy jeered.

"Augustus, pick up the scroll by the phone and call somebody; you will know which one."

With trembling hands, Gus unrolled the scroll, which was a phone list of the entire congregation at Elliquus' house and scanned the names. Macius had a note next to his listing saying not to call after eight O'clock, and Gus recalled Macius' wife went to bed very early because she was a morning newscaster who had to be up long before the sun five days a week. His eyes then fell upon Elliquus' listing with the note to phone any time. Perhaps the hour wasn't too late?

"Here goes nothing," Gus mumbled as he dialed the leader's number. The purring telephone rings sounded off in his left ear, and he hoped he was not imposing upon the amiable man.

"Hello." The gentleman jovially greeted, his voice bringing security to Gus, who could use all the allies he could get at this precise juncture.

"Am I glad to catch you, Elliquus I … I …where do I start … man, I'm going to be sick."

"Just take a deep breath, take your time, and tell me what's on your mind, Gus."

Figuring there was no turning back, Gus regaled the terrifying tale that tormented him during his nap, while Elliquus gave him a listening ear and silently prayed for the right words to say to him.


	10. Cicero's Secret

Chapter 10 – Cicero's Secret

"Forced to play in this drama, a part I did not wish to play." – Watch the Lamb by Ray Boltz

Elliquus reclined on his couch and drew in a deep breath as he heard Gus conclude his harrowing tale. He could sense with every fiber of his being that the Holy Spirit was working very rapidly within the newest addition to his congregation; however, the consequence was another spirit had now barged in and would love nothing more than to undo all the good that had been done to and for Gus thus far. He knew he had to choose his words carefully, lest he frighten the seeker away from salvation. He took an audible slurp from his goblet of chamomile tea so Gus would know he was still there; then he trusted God would fill him with exactly what he was to say.

"Gus, I think I know what is happening to you; it's something we all experienced both before and after we embrace Jesus as our lord and savior. Believe me, you are not alone, and every man and woman in our group will tell you they've been through it or are presently going through it. I know you are a veteran, so you surely understand the true nature of warfare from an up close and personal prospective. I can't remember a time when the Roman Army wasn't involved in some sort of battle or another. Anyway, from what I just heard you say, it's evident that you are now in spiritual warfare. You told me of a villain named Beelzebub in your nightmare; sadly, he is real, as real as God is. The difference is God loves you and stands for good while Beelzebub, also known as satan, the devil, or the enemy, hates God and would stop at nothing to either keep people from embracing Jesus Christ or render Christians ineffective by setting up obstacles in their paths so they can't honor what God has called them to do."

"I thought the devil was that guy in red with horns and a pointy tail who played practical jokes on the main characters in cartoons. They've featured stuff like that ever since I was a kid."

"Believe me, that prankster with a pitchfork image is the farthest thing from the truth. If we saw anything like that coming, we'd run; you'd run if you saw the prosecutor from your dream. The most dangerous thing is the devil is capable of assuming many forms including invisibility or the image of anything he chooses to counterfeit so he can more effectively deceive his victims. Remember that 'talking snake' as you called it your first day with us? That was the devil tempting Eve to bite into that forbidden fruit."

"Tempting?" Gus queried, grabbing a throw pillow and absently squeezing one of the corners in his free hand as the conversation unfolded. For some reason he did not like where this was going and hoped Elliquus could provide some pearls of wisdom and comfort.

"It's something nobody on the face of the earth is immune to, Gus, and it doesn't just happen to Christians. Just ask anyone who is on a diet or wants to overcome an addiction of any sort. The devil is very nosy and only wants to kill, steal, and destroy. He does this by finding out our weaknesses and then pushing our buttons right where it hurts. For example, Jubilus and I inherited high cholesterol from both sides of our family and have to honor a healthy meal plan so we can avoid depending on medications. To do that, we have to be extremely careful what we eat six days a week so we can happily partake of what everyone brings on Sundays. Monday through Saturday, the delicious foods we're to avoid seem to be more attractive to us, almost calling out to us to eat them. That attraction to what we're not supposed to have or do is temptation, and we have to decide for ourselves if we're going to resist or give in to it."

"If we resist and pass the proverbial test or win this spiritual war you're talking about, does it quit? Does this devil leave us alone after that?"

"Unfortunately, no, not until we go to Heaven; because the devil is only allowed to stay so we could choose freely to love God. Without our free will intact, we'd operate on instinct like animals do. Would you want Laurie to love you the way she does because she does automatically or because she decided to on her own; in other words, did she marry you because she was supposed to or because she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you?"

"She married me because she loved me and felt safe with me and that I would be good to her for the rest of her life," Gus answered with a shrug of the shoulders.

"It's the same way with God; He wants you to love Him because you want to be with Him and because He wants you to feel safe and secure with Him like Laurie does with you; in fact, Christians are often referred to as the bride of Christ. With our free will intact, our love for God is far more valuable."

"Let me get this straight. Are you saying that so I can keep my free will and love God on a deeper level, this devil is going to hang around for the rest of my life; I can't get rid of him and get him to go somewhere else? Does he go easier on Christians?"

"Oh no, Gus, unhappily, the devil comes after Christians and seekers all the more. He started coming after you tonight because he sees you showing an interest in Christianity and wants to stop you from embracing Jesus one day. He doesn't bother those who are uninterested in salvation because he knows they will be his one day when they die and pass into eternity; those are no brainers for him. He really gets mad when God draws seekers to salvation, for that's likely another soul he won't be able to take to Hell. Since he can no longer claim Christians, he will wound or weaken them spiritually so they can't grow in their relationship with God. It's not a matter of if the devil comes for you; it's a matter of when, the difference being between a seemingly normal eighty odd year life on Earth, destined for a miserable eternity suffering alone in Hell, or spiritual warfare on this earth with our brothers and sisters in Christ to help us but permanent happiness in heaven one day."

"Personally, I'd go for the choice where you aren't going through all this crud alone and the suffering eventually stops," Gus voiced which option he clearly favored.

"Forget it, Holiday, if you join the _superstitionis novae ac maleficae, you'll be a hated man throughout the city of Rome. These new friends of yours aren't exactly winning any popularity contests among the townspeople, nor are they as prosperous as they could have been if they hadn't sold out to their God," the scoundrel from Gus's nightmare hissed malevolently in a snarling voice only the seeker could hear._

"Shut … up," Gus growled through gritted teeth, swinging the pillow at the invisible foe.

"Gus, you OK?" Elliquus voiced concern for the troubled Roman on the other end of the phone.

"HUH? Oh, I uh … I … oh boy, you'll have me hauled off to the funny farm in a hug me toga after hearing this. Oh, here goes nothing … Elliquus; I think that stupid devil's bugging me."

"And you thought I would have you packed off for insanity? What's happening to you is perfectly normal; spiritual warfare is fought inside the head, not on a traditional battlefield, and no, it's not mental illness. Right now, you are like a soldier in training and will need people who have a stronger relationship with God to guide you through this. You did the right thing calling me tonight, for now I can offer you the support you will need."

"But if the devil can't be gotten rid of, what can you do for me?" Gus wanted to know.

"The same thing when we asked God to heal you from the headaches; I can say a prayer for you. With your okay, I can do that right here over the phone."

"I don't have to be physically with you for you to do that?"

"As long as I know you want prayer, I can do it any time, with or without you present. Remember when you first joined us and we prayed for Annia when she was sick? She wasn't there, but we prayed for her anyway, knowing she requested it. Prayer is simply talking to God and asking Him for guidance, healing, or any other help He can give us.

OK, go ahead and do it. You know about all this stuff better than I do."

"Our Father in Heaven, we love You and we come to You now lifting up Gus into Your capable and loving hands. You can see the battle that has begun in his mind, and You know he could use and would appreciate all the help he can get, especially since this is a very new experience for him. Please bring him comfort and peace, causing him to know without a shadow of a doubt how much You love him. Lord, rebuke the adversary, who is trying to cast this kind soul that You created for a very special purpose into confusion in Jesus' name! Please cause him to sense Your presence as he goes to bed tonight and let him rest in Your protective arms. This we pray in Jesus' Name! Amen."

"Thanks, Elliquus; somehow, I feel a lot better." Gus loosened his grip on the throw pillow.

"I'm glad to hear that, my friend." Elliquus finished the rest of the tea in his goblet and set the empty vessel on the coffee table.

"Augustus, it's time to rest," the gentle apparition dropped the hint that the Holiday patriarch had better retire for the night while the cozy shawl of peace was still wrapped around him.

"Elliquus, I hate to get off the phone so soon, but I'm going to have to get ready for bed. I'm not normally such a light weight, but my family and I have to get up early if we want to have our baths and make it over to your house on time; otherwise, there'll be plenty of disgruntled coffee drinkers tomorrow when I show up while your teaching is already underway."

"No problem, I would just give you a tardy slip," the good natured fellow teased with a chuckle. "Seriously, if you need to get to bed early, I do understand. My chamomile tea's going to kick in in about fifteen minutes, so I have to get to bed too. Good night and pleasant dreams, Gus."

"Good night, Elliquus. See you in the morning." Upon hearing the call click into silence, the seeker hung up the receiver, locked the front door, and made his way back to the master bedroom, leaving only the hall lamp on for Happius so he could come in, secure for the night, and find his way back to his own room.

"Before we call the children in and ask a blessing over the food, I would like to make a need known. Annia and Neddia called early this morning asking if anyone can come over sometime this week to help them pay their bills. Normally Annia's mother drops by to do this, but she is unable to this month," Elliquus laid aside his scrolls to address the Sunday morning assembly.

"Where do they live? I think I can do it on Wednesday," outdoor laborer Gus offered his services to the two blind ladies who sat side by side on the fireplace hearth. "They're predicting torrential downpours and thunderstorms that day, so I won't be able to work."

"We're at 32707 Aurora Circle, just three blocks from-" Annia began, only to be interrupted with a very surprised Gus's revelation that he knew exactly how to find their home.

"Three blocks north of Roman High. Small world! You won't believe it, but I grew up in that house! My mother said she sold it four years ago to an older couple who needed a second home for their daughter and her friend… left just about all the furniture behind except for the master bedroom set since she moved in with my brother. I could find you girls with my eyes closed!"

"Thank you very much, Gus! God will surely bless you for doing this for us; the bank seems fond of their monthly mortgage payments, and the collectors aren't going to let us keep the utilities and phone on out of the goodness of their hearts," Annia commented with a cockeyed smile as she brushed her small left hand along the skirt of her scarlet toga.

"It's my pleasure, ladies. I'll stop by in the early afternoon after I have lunch; there's supposed to be a lull in the storms then."

The days passed by rapidly after that festive Sunday gathering, and, true to Gus's prediction, it rained cats and dogs throughout the morning, lulling up around the one O'clock hour. It was barely misting when Gus pulled into the driveway of his childhood home for the first time since he last visited his widowed mother, and it was as if he had stepped back to a simpler time of his life when his father was alive and his biggest worry was if he could pass his classes or if Laurie's parents would finally allow her to date him, a boy two years her senior, a monumental age difference in the eyes of parents raising an only daughter. It felt quite odd for the Roman as he trudged the soaked sidewalk leading to the front porch, scaled the wooden steps and pressed his finger into the doorbell button; after all, he lived in this house until age twenty when his father fell in battle, thus wrenching him from his youth and all its attendant dreams when he had to join the army until Mark could take over supporting the family.

"Hello, Gus, come in before the rain starts up and you melt," Neddia smiled broadly, motioning for the visitor to enter the house from his youth, thus furthering his journey into the past.

"Thank you, Neddia. Boy isn't it strange being back here again," Gus marveled at how the furnishings could make a home look the same, yet its new occupants and the passage of time made it certain that one could truly never go home again. He hung his cloak on the rack in the corner by the closet and glanced to Neddia as a silent query as to where she wanted him to go so he could assist the ladies and be on his way before the conditions outside worsened again.

"Annia, Gus is here to help with those pesky little old bills!" Neddia called in the direction of the kitchen. "You might want to bring out one of the chairs so nobody has to be left standing!"

"Good afternoon, Gus. Neddia just put on some coffee, so it should be ready by the time we're done here." Annia emerged with a chair, plunked it next to the desk that was located under the south facing window, and promptly sat down in the rolling chair; gesturing for the man to take a seat next to her while Neddia perched on an ottoman nearby. After the visitor politely bid her his greeting, she offered him one of the hard candies from the sweet jar that was at the back right corner of the desk and continued, "We know the amounts we owe on each one since my parents had us arrange for the yearly flat fees, so cutting the checks isn't the problem. We come to a grinding halt when it comes to putting the payments and the stubs back into those darn mailers properly because we have to be sure the address shows through the little window. If they made opaque scroll mailers with preprinted labels on the outside, we'd be laughing."

"Yeah, and it would cheat your mother out of an excuse to come see you every month." Gus retrieved one of the mailers and read its attendant stub. "This one is for the utilities … Yikes! You girls are getting ripped off! My pop never had to pay this when we lived here!"

"I think it only looks that way because of the flat fee. During the hottest and coldest months my dad says we pay less than people who don't go by the flat fee. Here's the check." With that, she handed the completed and signed slip of parchment to a bewildered Gus!

"How did you…" the gentleman voiced his curiosity as he prepared the payment for mailing.

"Raised line checks; my mother insisted I learn how to write them the moment I moved out." Before she and Gus could move on to the next bill, a gray and black tabby with a bib of white fur on her chest jumped upon the desk and decided that one of the scrolls had become her new toy. She batted the paper play thing until it rolled off the desk and then proceeded to chase it along the floor. "Stormy, no! That's not yours!"

"Stormy, stop that and give us back that scroll!" Neddia demanded, only to hear the document disappear underneath the couch that was too heavy for either woman to lift. "Oh great, bad cat!"

"Hey, no strain, ladies, I can lift that couch long enough for one of you to fish out that scroll," Gus, a man used to erecting marble columns for a living, offered his services, ejecting himself from his seat and padding over to the sofa. "I don't really want to hold it up longer than necessary since it's a solid oak frame, and I'm still regaining my strength after what I did to my ribs last month; so one of you will have to crawl down there and get the scroll out as quickly as possible. OK, here we go, one … two … three!"

Fast as a flash, Annia, the less stocky of the two dropped to the floor on her belly, reaching her hands as far as she could under the couch. She rose in a minute with two scrolls in her possession and was unsure which one was the bill. "Looks like Stormy kicked something else down there without us knowing it," she postulated, holding the scrolls out to Gus, who had gladly lowered the couch to its place on the floor.

"Let me see those…" The Roman glanced at the typed printing at the top of one of the papers. "Hmmm, this looks like the phone bill …" He handed it to Neddia and peeked at the other goody Annia fished out. "What's this … uh, this … I don't think it's yours, probably was lost under there for years. I'll take care of it," he quickly rolled up the second scroll when he caught sight of his name scrawled out in his father's long forgotten handwriting. He knew not what was on that parchment; however this was not the time or place to inspect a page that was over twenty-three years old. He would have to read it later in the privacy of his own home.

"Annia, you and Gus finish up with the bills while I put Stormy into the wash room." Neddia reached down and scooped up the feline who had decided to wind herself around the lady's ankles. "Come on, kitty, you're going upstairs where you can't cause any more trouble."

Once they were certain the little furry friend wouldn't scramble or scurry off with any more scrolls, Annia and Gus returned to their positions at the desk so they could take care of the phone bill, mortgage, and any other payments that were coming due. When they were done with their financial chore, the group rewarded themselves by partaking of some sugar cookies and hot beverages: coffee for neddia and Gus and hot chocolate for Annia. A glance out the window told the only male in the group that more black clouds were rolling in, and he figured he had better head for home before the sky opened up again.

"I don't like the look of that sky; I'll probably have between fifteen minutes to half an hour to beat the next deluge home," Gus sighed, donning his cloak and tucking the old scroll safely away so any precipitation wouldn't ruin it while he was en route to his own home. "If you ladies ever need anything, just give me a call or have Elliquus make another announcement on a Sunday. Neddia, I know you can see a little; would you be able to make out my phone number if I wrote it big enough?"

"Just tell me what it is, and I'll put it in my phone scroll," the woman glided over to the desk and retrieved a long piece of parchment from the upper, left drawer and produced a thick stick to dip into an ink well that was still three quarters full.

Gus watched in utter amazement as Neddia quickly transcribed the phone number as he dictated it, penning the numerals in large block font as tall as the first section of her thumb. These two, in his opinion, did remarkably well for persons with their lack of useable eyesight, and he hoped he would handle such a condition as graciously in the event old age ever rendered him bespectacled or left him with weakened eyes.

In a moment, a distant echo of thunder cued the fully sighted man that it was time for him to depart for his apartment. The trio exchanged thank you's, familial hugs, and promises to see each other in a few days. Before he passed through the doorway, Gus quipped that the girls should deliberately run out of firewood or break something in the house so he would have an excuse to drop by and visit while he provided whatever service they would need. Their cheerful chortles were the last thing he heard before the front door swung shut and he jumped into his chariot, prepared to drive home in the drizzling rain.

Fortunately for not only Gus, but also for Bear the horse, both were warm, safe, and dry in their respective shelters when the cloudburst finally showered its bounty upon the neighborhood. While Laurie finished up the house cleaning and labored to prepare dinner on the stove that continued in its failure to function properly, Gus helped the children with their homework and placed a call to the Forum Construction Company to see if he would be back to work the next day. Kerria had delivered the tidings that inclement weather would delay outdoor work once again; however, Gus would not have to spend another idle day, as Mr. Tycoonius reportedly planned to drop off some blue prints for him to work on at home.

The sky was black as pitch thanks to the late hour and the storm clouds that hovered over the city of Rome. No stars peeked through the vast curtain of cloud cover, and only flashes of lightning illuminated the darkness for a few seconds at a time before mighty cracks of thunder made their own presence known. Before following his family's lead and going to bed for the night, Gus laid out his work scrolls across his drawing board so he could get a jump on them first thing after eating breakfast. It was then that he recalled the mysterious paper that he had brought home from the ladies' house, a relic from the past, something his father evidently wanted him to see. Settling into his chair and having pulled the end table lamp closer to him, he unrolled the scroll and began to read:

Dear Gus,

It's the middle of the night as I write, and it's now been about two weeks since my premature return home from the army because of that darn wrist of mine. I'm writing this letter to you in the event we don't have the opportunity to talk about this face to face. It's a very personal matter that even your mother doesn't know about, and I would just as soon keep it that way seeing how upset she was over that news report she heard on the radio about what happened in Jerusalem the weekend I was sent home. I know you, and you are getting more like me every day, including the persistent nature that brought honor to the Holiday name for generations, and I knew you wouldn't let go of what you overheard unless I put a stop to it right away. Yes, you wanted answers, but I had to threaten you with restriction because I wasn't ready to face what I witnessed, let alone discuss it with my son, who is still months shy of being a teenager. You're not old enough to shave yet, and here I am having to tell you something that would cause most grown men to feel uneasy. I'm hoping that you are ready for what I have to tell you. Please bear with me as I start from the beginning.

It was just like any other Friday morning during my time in the army reserves, up before the sun, cram some substandard food down and grab a quick shower before serving for the day. Of course, I had to play the klutz, which you know is not like me at all, and I tripped while coming out of the shower tent. Trying to break my fall was how I managed to sprain my wrist. Naturally, a temporarily one-handed armor bearer is about as useless as an oil lamp at high noon, and I thought they would give me an alternate assignment since my month of service wasn't up yet, and I'd have that darn splint on for a few weeks.

The time from when I first fell until well after they dressed my wound went by in a blur that I either blocked out because of the pain or just felt it was too boring to be worthy of remembering. I was still in the medic's tent, inwardly complaining about how uncomfortable that stupid splint was and fully expecting to be temporarily placed at some mind numbing clerical job when I heard complete chaos breaking out all around the tent. The officer, to whom I was assigned as his armor bearer, burst in and said all personnel had to be present per orders of the guys at the top of the chain of command. I protested because of my injury, and he said if it was up to him, he'd leave me where I was; however, it wasn't up to him, and his head would roll if I wasn't brought out. Needless to say, there I was, surrounded by fellow soldiers with no way to even try to stray from the crowd. I was in pain, and the little white pill they gave me hadn't kicked in yet; so this goes without saying, I was not a happy man by any stretch of the imagination. I couldn't think straight and only heard snatches of conversation that went on around me. Apparently there was an uproar concerning a Jewish teacher named Jesus who really had the leaders in Jerusalem up in arms. I don't know which side was right, or which was wrong; all I knew was he was sentenced to death.

Anyway, there I stood, still squished in among my commander and other roman soldiers when the three who were scheduled to be executed marched by. OK, two of them looked like any other criminals you would see at any other execution; however, the third one was beaten so severely he was unrecognizable! Something in my head rang out like an ear worm, the words, "Could this be Jesus?" playing several times in my mind until I swallowed hard and cleared out the mental cobwebs. Then one of the guys who stood in the front of the jumble of soldiers was given an order, though I didn't hear anything over the din. Then I saw that soldier run out and force a man whom I believe was an Israelite to carry the cross behind this bleeding and broken prisoner. Something in my head told me I had better stop complaining about my wounded wrist, for if I had been out with the rest of my detail instead of in the medic's tent, I might have been where that guy stood, possibly given that order myself. I actually felt like I was going to throw up, and I claimed to have had a bad reaction to the pain pill in hopes my commander would mow through the crowd so I could barf in peace. All I got for my efforts was a half second sympathetic glance from him and a shaking head. Apparently, I wasn't going anywhere.

Thankfully, we all started walking again, which halted the urge to puke; however, I still was hemmed in by people on all sides. We stopped where we could see the three prisoners atop that hill, nailed to crosses and having to remain there until dead. Now, you know I have seen many gory sights during my time in battle, but something about the battered man in the middle stuck out to me. I still can't explain it, but there was something about his eyes that will remain with me until I am in the grave. Then the words, "Cicero, for you." Echoed through my mind over and over again, and I couldn't shut off those words for the life of me. I'm almost ashamed to admit this to my own son, a boy to whom I repeatedly have admonished that big boys aren't supposed to cry. There I stood, digging my teeth into my trembling bottom lip and screwing my eyes shut in hopes of holding back any signs of even a single tear. Then the nausea was back, and I didn't care if I let loose all over the guy in front of me. Instead, I only had a dry heave or two. All I could do is stand there and watch those three guys die.

Then the strangest thing happened, it was the middle of the day, and it got dark as midnight. Again, the words "Cicero, for you." ran through my mind and my eyes welled up. I then felt dizzy and found myself leaning on my commander for physical support. It either had to be the combined stress of my injury and what I was witnessing or the fact I failed to have eaten enough breakfast that caused everything to go black all around me. The next thing I knew, I was on a cot in the medic's tent, my commander standing over me.

I tried to sit up, only to feel his heavy hand clamping around my shoulder and pushing me back down. He pulled rank and ordered me to just lie there, keep my yap shut and let him do all the talking. His own commanding officer came into the tent, and the two of them went on about how unwell I was, my commander claiming I picked up a flu bug, thus my fainting spell. I wasn't paying attention to the exact words those two exchanged, for I was still suffering from a feeling of great loss and anguish that could only be matched if I had come home from serving to find someone had put you, your mother, and Mark to the sword. It goes without saying that something had to be written all over my countenance, for I evidently didn't have to do that good of an acting job to convince my commander's commander that I was, in fact, sick. Though it is highly unlike the roman Army Reserves to send a man home without hardship dismissal paperwork, they decided my present physical condition and exemplary record were enough to let me slip by just this once. Needless to say I was nothing short of amazed, as I normally would have been ordered to remain in bed until the supposed flu bug passed, then put to work at a desk job until my wrist was healed or my month of service was up. Even as I sit in my favorite chair with you sleeping right upstairs, I still marvel at the fluke that brought me home. It's as if someone higher up than the officers saw to my early homecoming this month.

Of course the image of Jesus and the attendant strange feelings I had at the camp followed me home, and I'd been having vivid dreams about it. I won't go into detail about my having nightmares and what you, Mom, and Mark are to expect because of them since we'd been through this countless times when I would return home from a particularly bad month, for it's the same old thing with a radio playing soft music in Mom's and my room at night, keeping a close watch on my moods so nobody gets underfoot and is yelled at unnecessarily, the whole ball of wax. My hand is trembling even as I write you now, as I still haven't shaken the images and emotions that have stuck with me since the above described Friday. I could never say anything while still at camp, for they might have put me to the sword for being a traitor to Caesar and the entire Roman Empire. Maybe that's why my commander ordered me to shut up and put on the I'm sick act. Who knows. All I can tell you is what happened that day is something I will have to deal with, and it's something I cannot openly talk about because of the possible consequences.

Right now, I need to figure out the best time to give you this letter and find an excuse to disappear with you for a weekend fishing trip so we can safely talk. You know I have to plan that carefully since Mark always wants to come along on our father-son trips, and there's no way I want him to know any of this. You know how he still gets mad as all get out when the weather ruins outdoor plans; so how could he handle what I just told you? I'm not even sure how you will take it when you finish reading what I wrote. Anyway, it's going on three in the morning, and my mind is going blank, a definite sign I need to go upstairs and try to get some sleep. Once you have read this and had time to think about it, come to me, and we can arrange that fishing trip so we can have a good long talk in privacy. I love you, son.

Dad

Feeling numb from head to toe and from the inside out, Gus had no idea how he mustered the strength to roll up the scroll; however, there it was neatly sitting in his frozen hands. Only god knew for certain and Gus guessed that it was a brisk breeze from an open window that sent the scroll from the coffee table to its hiding place only an hour after Cicero had gone to bed, thus delaying its falling into its intended hands until this precise juncture. Why didn't Cicero do anything about it when he realized the letter was lost? Was there not the right time to find and deliver it? Had the father of two boys recovered from his traumatic experience, no longer feeling the need to share it with his first born? If the letter was confirmed gone, why didn't he still arrange for that private time with young Gus to discuss what he witnessed and how it affected him? Even if the armor bearer realized the letter was missing, it was likely he couldn't bring himself to pen or speak of it from square one because of what he'd have to disclose once again.

At last, mobility returned to the dumbfounded Roman, and he knew that he had to see Elliquus as quickly as possible! He sprang from his chair and darted into the kitchen to retrieve a cylindrical cookie tin for the scroll's protection from the pouring rain. Unfortunately, when he yanked the metal container from its place in the cabinet below the flatware drawer, an avalanche of tins of various shapes and sizes came tumbling onto the marble floor! Of course this attracted Laurie's attention, as she hadn't fallen asleep yet.

"Brutus, are you in the …" she stopped dead in her tracks when she realized the one to cause the loud clattering noise was not the family pet but the family head! "Gus, what are you doing?" she queried with arched eyebrows, for she expected her husband to be in their room getting ready for bed, not haphazardly tossing cookie containers back into the kitchen cabinet.

"I have to go to Elliquus' house to take care of something that can't wait for morning. If I put this off, I won't be able to sleep tonight or concentrate on the work I have to do on those blueprints tomorrow. I know it's storming out, and I'll drive carefully; if I'm over there too long, I'll end up spending the night and be back here first thing in the morning. I can't blame you for worrying about me after what happened last month, and I promise I'll call you when I get there." The troubled Roman worked ardently to keep an even keel, but his voice and eyes still manifested hints of outright panic!

"Do you want me to go with you, dear?" Laurie asked with genuine concern, for she doubted her spouse would be able to drive in his current state of mind.

"Do I want you to go with me? Yes, I want you to go with me, but you can't! this is something I have to take care of on my own!" He countered with the slam of the cabinet door. It was clear the level of his anxiety was increasing with each sentence he uttered.

Laurie stood helplessly watching with concerned eyes on the verge of welling up as Gus inserted the scroll into the tin he selected, threw on his cloak, and wildly dashed out into the storm.

As he drove through the mercilessly pounding deluge, Gus felt his heart hammering so violently within his chest, he felt as if he would suffer a coronary right there on the road!

"The time for curiosity and exploration is over!" he cried out into the din of the rain and wind, knowing his voice would be no match for that of the storm. "It ends here tonight!"


	11. Where Were You When It Happened

Chapter 11 - Where Were You When It Happened

"I hear a voice; it's telling me it's time to take a leap of faith, so here I go." - Dive by Steven Curtis Chapman

Apparently, the weather was not on Gus's side, as the rain was coming down in buckets by the time he pulled into Elliquus' driveway. Not wanting to leave Bear in the deluge, he scanned the back yard for any shelter he could find for the horse and noticed a shed that would have to do. It took some doing to get the beast of burden into the small building and tether him to one of the corner beams, but he finally managed it.

"Good Bear, I know you didn't want to go out in this," the Roman praised and patted the animal before retrieving some sack cloth from a bench in the corner and blotting away the excess water. "You should be all right in here. Don't worry; we're not going anywhere until the storms clear."

Once he was certain his horse was settled and relatively dry, Gus exited the shack, barreled up to the front porch, and pressed his finger into the doorbell button four times in rapid succession. His heart beat furiously, threatening to tear itself from his chest in a fraction of a second, for he still could not shake the utter shock he had been carrying since reading Cicero Holiday's written confession. The next minute may as well have been an hour for him as he waited for someone to open up and invite him in, thus providing him with not only shelter but solace. At last, Gloria answered the door, her mouth dropping open at the sight of Augustus Holiday standing on the porch, soaked to the skin, his hair hanging down around his face in limp spikes, and his wide eyes and blanching complexion indicating his obviously troubled state of mind!

"Gus, you're a sight! What on earth could have made you so upset that you had to go driving out in the pouring rain at this time of night! You need to get in here before you catch your death!" she exclaimed, quickly stepping back and slamming the door shut once the drenched visitor was inside. "Get over there and warm yourself by the fire while I get some towels!" her command was barely noticed by the Roman who was still taken aback from his late parent's revelation. Gloria guided him to the crackling source of warmth and light, slid over a throw rug for him to stand on, and then bounded up the stairs to fetch something to sop up the excess water that ran down his body from head to toe.

"It's OK, Laurie, he just showed up … No, I promise he's not going anywhere until the weather lets up … Good night." Elliquus hung up the telephone and approached his dripping and shivering surprise caller, casting concerned eyes upon him, for he had never seen such a stricken expression upon the seeker's countenance before. "Gus, what's wrong; you look terrible."

The words escaping him, Gus mutely reached into his cloak, retrieved the cylindrical tin, and held it out to his host. For a moment elliquus failed to comprehend why anyone would be in such a state of mind over a tube of cookies; however, when he felt the weight of the container and removed the lid to see the scroll inside, he inquired if Gus had received some bad news of emergency proportions such as a death or serious injury in the family. When Gus shook his head in the negative, Elliquus, with compassion in his voice, asked if he had permission to read the paper that caused such deep stirrings in its recipient. Once Mr. Holiday nodded his consent, Elliquus opened the letter, his eyes widening as he progressed through the written account of a thirty-one-year-old secret Cicero Holiday had kept under tight wraps and carried to the grave.

"He … he … my dad was there and saw … saw Jesus die! He saw it happen!" Finally regaining speech, Mr. Holiday shook so violently, the fire's toasty heat doing little to cause the shivering to cease. "There's no … no t-turning back now, and I'm not just saying it because Pop w-witnessed history. He b-b-believed in Jesus didn't he? That's the impression I'm getting."

"Gus, I know you told us you lost your father a long time ago, and I hope you can forgive me if I'm prying. Was this around the same time he died? The reason I ask is if he let on that he believed in Jesus and the wrong people found out, his own army could have martyred him," the homeowner gently pointed out something he felt was very important.

"no, I d-don't … don't think so; that letter was written when I was t-t-t-twelve years old, and my dad was mor-mortally wounded in … in bat-bat-battle when I was twenty," Gus informed his friend with a shake of the head and an obvious stutter induced by a mixture of his emotional state and the seemingly perpetual chill.

The pitter patter of sandaled feet upon the stairs announced not only Gloria's return with the towels, but the emergence of Erudus, who had just finished relieving himself in the guest bath!

"Oh no, I didn't … didn't know you had company over tonight; I won't take … take your time away from erudus. I'll just come b-back tomorrow, unless you are having more com-com-company over," a deeply embarrassed Gus was about to whirl around on one heel and head for the door when Elliquus clamped his fingers around his arm. Gloria quickly removed the soaked cloak and snugly wrapped a large periwinkle towel around the trembling form, a gesture that would have normally been met with polite resistance; however Gus had too much on his distressed mind to voice his protestations.

"No dice, pal, I promised Laurie we were keeping you here until the storms were over. The poor lady called here just before you arrived and was worried sick about you driving around out there in the wind and rain, and I can't say I blame her after your accident. And don't worry about getting in the way with Erudus; he just showed up twenty minutes ago in a covered taxi, insisting God wanted him here tonight. That's all he said." Elliquus made it abundantly clear that nobody was venturing out in this horrible weather and at this late hour!

"You'll need something dry to wear," Gloria took it upon herself to slip Gus's laurel wreath onto the ottoman and use the second towel to vigorously rub the rain water out of his hair. She then seized him by the shoulders and positioned him so he was facing the toasty flames that danced behind the screen. When she was satisfied he would stay put, she flitted up the stairs.

"Give me a minute to get out the rollaway bed and set it up in the den so Gloria can put on some clean linens and blankets. Then we can go into the kitchen and talk about this letter some more," Elliquus squeezed Gus's shoulder in a gesture of kindness before disappearing upstairs.

Alone for the time being, save for Erudus who reclined comfortably on the couch, Gus was certain his heart would never resume a normal rhythm. The dampness and cold that didn't seem to want to ebb had gotten to his nose, causing him to sneeze thrice in succession.

"Bless you, young man," the elderly Roman smiled up at the unfortunate fellow.

"Th-th-thank you," the forty-three-year-old smiled through chattering teeth, pulling the towel even tighter around himself in a vain attempt to remove the chill that sank to his very core.

"Now what possessed you to go running around out in the rain, boy? That's how people get pneumonia!" Erudus mildly scolded in exactly the same way Cicero Holiday would have had he been alive to see Gus's latest act of folly. Spying the deceased roman's scroll on the coffee table, the highly intuitive senior citizen felt a prompting from the Spirit to take a look, for it had to contain something of great importance to leave Gus in such a condition as he was seeing now. The tugging grew in intensity with each second that elapsed, and he knew right down to his old arthritic bones that scroll was not only the cause of Mr. Holiday's troubled state, but also the key to an immeasurable peace that would last a lifetime. Unfortunately, to read the document without permission would be dishonorable. Heaving a sigh, he gingerly picked the scroll up in his weathered fingers, handling it with the utmost respect as if it were a sacred paper worth a million dinars. "I realize this is probably a very personal letter, and I normally wouldn't ask to read other people's mail, but would you mind if I looked at this please?"

Realizing that the secret would be out, at least as far as the small group in the house was concerned; Gus figured the kindly old fellow might as well read the scroll. Oh, g-go ahead, you're probably going to hear Elliquus and me talking about … about it anyway."

As he drank in the words on the scroll, Erudus felt a sudden twinge of déjà vous come crashing into him with all the speed and fury of Ben Hurr's racing chariot! At last, he realized why Gus's facial features, eyes and hands looked familiar to him! Could it be? Was this the son of his old armor bearer from so long ago? Though it was true that Holiday was not the most unique surname, nor was Gus classified as an unusual first name, the connection between the fallen soldier and the gentleman in front of the fire could no longer be left to conjecture. "This is incredible … after all these years … So you're the famous Gus I kept hearing about. Your father talked about you, your mother, and little brother every chance he got. There was a man who loved his family for all he was worth!" When the younger Roman spun around to meet the elder's eyes, he continued, "I always preferred having reserve soldiers serving under me, as I liked seeing different faces all the time. When Cicero was first assigned to me in thirty three, I hit it off with him so well I requested he be permanently assigned to me every time his service month came up. We were together through the spring of forty-one … when he fell in battle."

"Did he … uh … did he go quickly?" Gus both wanted to know and dreaded to find out what his dad's final moments were like before death claimed him. "He didn't suffer a lot did he?".

"I was right there with him when it happened. Everything was a blur of swords swinging and shields popping up to stop the blades in mid thrust. The sound of all that weaponry crashing together caused us such great headaches it would have us giving our life savings for some pain pills. Suddenly, I heard his voice cutting through that awful din; he yelled out that something got him and that he couldn't stand up. He did his best to lunge forward from where he had fallen and grabbed my leg, and that's when I saw a couple bone fragments mixed in the puddle of blood on the ground and knew there was not enough time to get him to the medic; yet, I couldn't just leave him there. If there was the slightest chance of saving him, I was sure going to give it a good hard try. More men from our troop gathered around and shielded us and kept the enemy at bay while I did what I could for him, which was far too little as far as I was concerned. Even when he was growing weaker by the minute and knew he was dying, he only seemed to think of his family, not the condition he was in. He was stringing sentences together that had me certain he was incoherent at that juncture, and by the time I realized he was voicing his final thoughts, he had already gone unconscious and passed away." Only divine intervention could have made it possible for Erudus to clearly recall, after such a long passage of time, Cicero Holiday's last words as he lay on the battlefield dying in his commander's arms. "It was over thirty some years ago, and, yet, it seems like yesterday. He said, 'I wish I could have held you one more time, my dear, sweet Kara, and I only take comfort in this because I won't have to bear the sting over losing you someday;' 'Gus, forgive me, son; I know you don't have the heart of a soldier, and I'm really sorry you will have to drop out of school to enlist and support the family;' 'Mark, I know you're going to grow up into a fine and successful young man one day, and I wish I could have been alive to see it;' and his very last words were, 'I'm going home now; Jesus is calling me. I love all of you very much.' That's when he slipped away," the old man concluded with glistening eyes and eyelids that fluttered like hummingbird wings.

His suspicions of Cicero's secret embracing of Christianity confirmed, Gus suddenly felt as if his entire skeletal system had turned to Jell-O, and he began to tremble far more than he did upon his entry into the house. The towel he had been clutching dropped around his ankles as his fingers released their hold on it, and he knew it was a matter of just a few seconds before his legs would collapse under him like spaghetti. Sensing the impending physical deflation, Errudus tossed the scroll onto the couch and caught Gus in his arms just before he would have fallen hard to the floor. Though his advanced age left him too weak to hold the shocked Mr. Holiday upright, he did manage to ease his descent to a seated position on the rug. Both men sat huddled together until Elliquus returned downstairs after having set up the extra bed in the den, a bundle of dry undergarments and night ware under his left arm.

"Dad … he uh … he was … he was a Christian, and none of us ever knew it. How did he manage to keep it a secret for all those years?" Gus finally found the words, peering up into Elliquus' caring eyes. "Erudus told me he remembered Dad's last words, and he said Dad said Jesus was calling him home. When did it happen and why didn't any of us pick up on it? I don't think he even told Mom, and they never kept secrets from each other. If he had told her, my mom, who always likes to know why people do the things they do, would have been full of questions about Christianity and what made him want it."

"I think only God knows the answer as to why your father didn't let on about his salvation, but we can take some pretty educated guesses," elliquus explained as Erudus laboriously rose and drew back so he could close the living room curtains, thus allowing Gus to undress before the fire and still maintain some semblance of privacy. "He could have feared for his life, as Christianity wasn't then and still isn't the most popular stand to take among those who are ignorant of or hate it. Your father probably had to keep quiet to protect himself and possibly you and the rest of the family, and that had to be very hard for him, as many Christians want to share Jesus with everyone they can. If your father didn't have a good poker face, it had to be a mammoth struggle for him to carry around for eight years." He offered a supporting arm to help Holiday to his feet and held out the bundle of dry clothing. When the dumbstruck Augustus glanced toward the staircase, Elliquus changed course and gave him some assurance. "Gloria is putting clean bedding in the guest room and the den, so she'll be up there a while; she promised not to come down until you've had a chance to change out of those wringing wet clothes. These might be a little big on you, but they should do for tonight."

Gus mutely nodded his gratitude and began to shed his sopping wet toga, under garments, and sandals as if on an automatic setting. He donned the dry underwear, night clothes, and slippers, enjoying the sensation of the fabric's radiant warmth against his skin as the goose bumps finally disappeared; however, this relief didn't fully penetrate the surface, as he continued to shiver from deep within. He rubbed his upper arms in an effort to create some friction and hopefully send some heat through his muscles and right down to the bones.

Seeing that it was necessary for Gus to knock the chill out internally, Elliquus gathered up the water logged laundry, save the sandals, and turned toward the kitchen. "Let me dump this into the washer; then we can put on a pot for some chamomile tea. I realize you probably don't drink it, but it'll get rid of the rest of the chill for you, Gus; and believe me, it'll help us all fall asleep tonight. It doesn't take a genius to know we'll need it with that storm raging outside and all that's been on our minds. You guys know where everything is kept don't you?" While the homeowner disappeared to the utility room in the basement, Erudus put the filled teapot on the fire and located the goblets, and Gus looked in the cupboard for the tea bags. Annoyingly enough, he could not locate the sought after bags and had to enlist the aid of Gloria, who had finally finished the task of preparing her guests' beds for the night. The expressions on the men's faces told her they had something very personal to discuss, something to do with Gus's emotional state, something he might not wish to give vent with a lady present. Respecting the fellows and the sensitive nature of the situation, she excused herself to the living room, where she nursed her tea by the fire and placed a quick phone call of assurance to Laurie, telling her that her husband was getting the counsel he evidently needed so badly.

"I still can't believe it … my dad was a Christian. When did he even find time to do it? I never saw him reading anything specifically about Jesus except what appeared in the news scrolls; he never talked to anyone about God or acted like a Christian with praying like you guys do. Erudus, did he say anything to you when he was serving under you? Did you notice anything?"

"Why do you think I ordered him to keep his mouth shut after he fainted? He looked like I felt; he must have become a believer when he witnessed Jesus' crucifixion and realized it was not just any execution; it was a perfect sacrifice, an innocent man laying down his life to atone for all of us. That was the day I became a believer too. The only difference between your father and me was I could keep a straight face while he could not. If he let on how deeply affected he was, it would have meant his death, as punishments in the Roman army for treachery are severe; and then who would have taken care of your mother and you boys? I had to take a chance and convince the commanding officer he had fallen ill, not only to keep him quiet about what he had seen but to get him a medical leave so he could at least be away from camp while he tried to come to terms with what happened. Before he left, I spent some time alone with him in his quarters, claiming to his bunkmates he was highly contagious and would be shipped home ASAP. Because it was not wise to talk openly in camp, I simply told him to give me his address so I could arrange for his ticket home, when, in reality; I fully intended to correspond with him via letter about what he was going through. It was in one of those letters I wrote when he was safely home that I told him I had also become a believer. We wrote back and forth faithfully for years. We even developed a secret code so we could communicate during his on duty months. Often, Talk about Jesus was disguised as anecdotes, and Because of his poor poker face, we used every day gestures to cover up any failure to make direct eye contact. Winks or subtle movements like ear tugging, head cocking, and arched eyebrows determined the difference between our code and a real story about the family back home. For example, if he was talking about his son having trouble adjusting to puberty and popped his knuckles at the same time, it meant he was having trouble wrapping his head around something to do with God. However, if he talked about his son without doing anything else, it _really_ was concerning his son."

"Did he tell you what tipped him over the edge; what made him decide to become a Christian? In his letter, Pop said he felt like he couldn't feel any worse if someone killed Mom, mark, and me. Was that all it took, seeing Jesus die in front of him, and he suddenly grieved for Jesus the same way he would for his family?" Gus stared into his goblet, too numb to pick it up and take a sip, even though he knew the teas soothing warmth would extinguish the chill once and for all.

"Everyone comes to Christ differently; some are driven by compassion for Jesus; some fear eternity in Hell; some grow curious as to who Jesus was. The one thing they all have in common is the Holy Spirit works in all of them and prepares them for that moment when they are ready to join the Christian family. It looks to me like your father became a believer the same way I did; the Holy Spirit tugged at my heart and reminded me that Jesus, who is God with the skin on, loves me very much. When I learned God loved me so much that He sent His only son to die on that cross as the perfect sacrifice, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I owed Him my life and wanted to stay with him forever. It does something to you when you learn someone died for you, someone who never knew you personally. Now, if that isn't love, I don't know what is."

The genuine tenderness that shone in the old man's eyes pierced Gus's heart like a sword. He barely knew this gentleman; yet, he sensed from the depths of his very core that he was a man of great integrity and had a caring nature that came along once in a generation. There was something about him that caused all who encountered him to admire and trust him completely, present company included. Was this only a tiny fraction of the love God had for Gus? Did He truly send His only son to lay down his life so he could spend eternity in Heaven? Did Jesus willingly spill his innocent blood for him as much as he did for Elliquus, Erudus, and Cicero? Before the questions could finish playing in his mind, Gus heard the kindly apparition answering him with vocal tones that made him feel completely safe with him.

"Augustus, it's time."

"Ignore those guys and their smushy wushy junk, Holiday. Anyone who buys into that guff is a sucker who can't think his way through a wet piece of paper," the evil entity reared his ugly head, intent on dissuading the seeker who was on the cusp of Christianity. "Join up with these jerks, and you'll be hated; you'll lose your job; your wife and kids will be sleeping on the ground and begging in the streets. Your precious little daughter would have to become a prostitute in order to buy food. What kind of provider dumps all that on an innocent little girl?"

"Don't listen to him, Augustus, I will provide no matter what happens to you and your family."

"There's something you don't know about these religious nuts, Holiday. They might look all warm and friendly wendly, but they have strange ways and practice all sorts of rituals any good roman avoids. You'll permanently ruin your family's lives if you join them; you'll drive people away from you like you had a progressive and disfiguring disease."

"He's lying to you, Augustus, come to the Christian family, and all will go well with you. Blessings are stored up for you, and you will be ready to receive them once you become my child and begin a personal relationship with me."

"You won't get anything but trouble for falling in with those guys, Holiday; you'd throw away any chance you have to do what all decent fathers do, take care of your family. If someone kills you for being a Christian, your wife will be taking in laundry forever; your little girl will have to sell flowers for years when she isn't selling herself, who cares about her allergies or her health; your son will be cleaning sandals on street corners until he's at least fifty; and your poor pet lion will die starving because he can't beg for enough scraps. Fine family man you would be."

"Shut up and get out of my head!" Gus growled savagely, immediately sending the signal to his companions that he was being assailed by the adversary. "Get out and don't come back!" He thundered louder than any cracks that could be heard from outside and repeatedly pounded the table with his fist so hard that Erudus pulled the tea goblets toward himself to prevent any spills.

Tightly squeezing his goblet in his right hand, Elliquus began to pace the floor, muttering a string of fervent prayers under his breath. "Lord rebuke the devil. Cause the evil one to stay away from that man in the mighty name of Jesus. The enemy will not claim this soul, not tonight, not ever."

"Elliquus, shshshshshshshshsh, he's where I need him to be right now." The kindly spirit admonished, so the Christian man ceased and desisted in obedience.

Having heard Gus's slamming the kitchen table and his loud words of distress, a very concerned Gloria appeared in the doorway, a definite sign that Elliquus had other duties to attend to, such as filling his wife in on what was happening and keeping her out of the way so God could work in the seeking Roman the way He needed to.

"Walk away from these men now, Holiday, and you won't have to be fed to hungry lions, covered in hides and torn apart by dogs, burned alive in Nero's garden at night, or nailed to a cross yourself. Would the widow's pension be enough to take care of your family? What if that pretty little wife of yours has to remarry to support the children and cries herself to sleep every night because the new guy is an abusive tyrant who beats her?"

"Augustus do not listen to him. I have plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Even when hard times do come as they would for everybody, I will be here with you. Even if you are struck down, I will not let you be destroyed. That is my promise."

"I want God; how do I get Him?" Gus panted, spearing Erudus eyes with his own steely gaze.

"I can see you won't listen to me, Holiday, how about a good long mental block that won't let up until you give up on pursuing this Christianity nonsense once and for all?"

Without warning, it was as if Gus had been stricken with amnesia, all memories of what he had learned during the Sunday gatherings and lunch hours in the park somehow wrenched from him, locked away to a part of his mind he could not access. He beat the table with his fists, absolute horror and anguish darkening his features. "I'm losing it! It's all going away!"

At that precise juncture, Erudus found just the right words to say being poured into his head like refreshing cool water filling a goblet. "Do you remember you're A B C's, son?" he queried, using exactly the same words and inflection Cicero had uttered when quizzing five-year-old Gus over the recitation of the alphabet.

Fortunately, the adversary thought he would let this question slide in hopes it would only register as a childhood memory for the tormented Roman, and the loving spirit took advantage of the loophole, tiny as it was. He dropped the silent and subtle hint that Erudus was not waiting to hear the kindergarten alphabet song; it had to be something else. Gus continued to struggle with the mental block, panting in utter frustration and continuing to smack the table to get the point across he was trying with every fiber of his being to answer his elder's question.

"Remember you're A B C's … A is for …" the amiable gent prompted like a schoolteacher.

Was it apple? That's what it said in Gus's old kindergarten primer scroll. Somehow it didn't sound right to him. Not apple, not ant, not ape, not air. Was this one of those trick questions or one with a really outlandish answer that would certainly work but not be among the first to come to mind? Perhaps if he vocalized the first A word that came to him, it would help? Not even thinking, he opened his mouth and allowed the first word that started with the aforementioned letter to come spilling out. "A is for admit."

"Now, what are you admitting?" the wise chap kindly pressed for an answer.

The question remained, admit to what? It had to be something one would not boldly claim. "Admit … admit I'm … what is it … a …" a thirty second pause elapsed before the answer rolled off his tongue without his even realizing it. "A sinner?" Gus concluded his oration as a question, as he was unsure if he was on the right track.

"Very good, my boy!" Erudus praised his pupil. "Now B is for …"

All right, if A stood for admit, then B had to represent something related. Was it behave; was it beg; was it believe? Believe sounded right, so Gus hazarded a guess. "B is for believe?"

"Yes! Well done! Now what do you believe?"

"I believe … Uh … I believe believe in …" What could it possibly be? Perhaps it was something so obscure it would be the last thing to occur to him. Maybe it was something as simple as a name or event he may have heard about either in childhood or on a recent news broadcast. "Uh, something … no, someone … someone important … Is it … My dad talked about someone important who made the news all over the entire Roman Empire … an unusual name that started with a J …" An audio flicker of Cicero's voice as he had spoken to Kara was just the hint that was needed! "Jesus Christ?"

That's right! Now what is C for? If you know this, you know you're A B C's of salvation."

The fog had to have begun to burn away a little, as the answer came to Gus a little more easily, and he was certain he knew not only the required C word but its significance. "C is for … confess. Confess … my faith."

"Yes! You've got it! Now let's hear you string you're A B C's together and apply them to yourself!" Erudus was ecstatic over the events that were unfolding before him!

"A, I admit that I'm a sinner; B, I believe in Jesus Christ; C, I confess my faith."

"Good for you! You've done it! Now, Gus Holiday, are you ready to be born again and rest in the loving arms of a Heavenly Father who will never die like your earthly father did. He will carry you through the rough times as well as the good ones. He's waiting for you, son. Just tell Him you want to be His child, and He will be your Father forever.

Here it was, the point of no return; once Gus would make this commitment, his life would never be the same again. His heart raced, and his blood rushed through him like a wild ninety-eight point six degree crimson river, causing him to feel as if his entire body sped up three times as fast. He knew the appointed time had come, and he would either have to sink or swim once he uttered the answer to Erudus' query. Procrastinating the inevitable surely would not make it any easier, so he knew he had to take a deep breath, swallow hard, and say the word.

"OK, Erudus, I … I'm going to do it."

Erudus reached over, grasped Gus's hands, and raised them toward the ceiling. "If you mean this from the bottom of your heart, repeat this after me … Jesus, I've been controlling my own life."

"Jesus, I've been controlling my own life," Gus began, barely speaking above a whisper.

"But that ends here tonight. I surrender," the older Roman continued.

"But that ends here tonight. I surrender," Mr. Holiday echoed after having bitten into his lip.

"I believe when You died on that cross You were paying the death penalty for the sinning I have done," the elderly Christian carried on with the petition, his own heart beating with anticipation that only could be equal to that of his wedding night or the days of his children's births!

"I believe when You died on that cross You were paying the death penalty for the sinning I have done." As he uttered the prayer, Gus found more strength and conviction in his words, his voice coming up to a more normal volume and the devil induced mental block disintegrating!

"Right now I'm relinquishing control of my life to You and I'm dropping my pride and am reaching for Your hand," Erudus prompted.

"Right now I'm relinquishing control of my life to You and I'm dropping my pride and am reaching for Your hand!" Gus declared boldly

"I'm putting all my trust in You to forgive my sin and to take me to heaven, because You're alive and I'm Yours." Erudus could barely contain the excitement of the coming birth!

"I'm putting all my trust in You to forgive my sin and to take me to heaven, because You're alive and I'm Yours." Gus was inwardly bubbling over with absolute merriment!

"In Your name … Amen!" Erudus concluded the prayer with tears of joy in his eyes

"In Your name … Amen!" Augustus Holiday finished his very first prayer, having now become a newborn babe in Christ!

"Welcome to the family, my son!" the older fellow released the younger's hands and warmly embraced him in a fatherly hug Gus hadn't known since the days when Cicero was still alive! Then with a twinkle in his eye, Erudus softly sang Happy Birthday to his companion.

"Honey, it's gotten quiet in there, should you check on them?" Gloria inquired of her hubby after having finished her "sleepy time" tea.

"They might still need some time alone, sweetheart; what Gus is going through is nothing to take lightly." Elliquus placed his own empty goblet on the coffee table. "Erudus led his entire family to Christianity, so I know if he runs into something he can't handle, he would call on me."

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy; it's a boy!" the senior citizen cheerfully announced as he appeared in the doorway arm in arm with his baby brother in Christ, whose countenance communicated that he was still trying to wrap his head around what to do with his membership in this Godly family.

Elliquus and Gloria exchanged incredulous glances, then grinned widely when it finally soaked in that a brand new Christian had just been born!

"HA HA HA HA! Oh glory to God on high! The angels are rejoicing, and so are we! Gus came home at last!" Elliquus leapt up, snatched up his wife in his strong arms, and swung her around twice before setting her down and planting a firm kiss on her rose bud lips! "Welcome to your new family and happy birthday to you, brother!" he beamed, throwing his arms around Gus and giving him his very best bear hug, heartily slapping him on the back in a congratulatory gesture! "How does it feel to be a child of God, my friend?"

"I don't know … it's strange … I want to make a lot of noise like I'm at a Trojans game, but at the same time I can't seem to move. Part of me feels like a pop bottle that's been shaken, while another part just wants to sit down and register what happened to me. Sounds odd I know." After Gloria rendered her most heartfelt congratulations and gave a sisterly smooch on his cheek, Gus plunked onto the couch, the shocked stillness masking all vestiges of the ongoing chill he felt within him thanks to his night time drive in the pouring rain.

"Actually, Gus, it's quite normal to be overwhelmed at first; many baby Christians don't know what to do with themselves when they're newly saved. Isn't that the way with physical babies? They don't know what to do when they are born, but they end up thriving because they have loving parents to raise and take care of them. As for you, buddy, you'll have many big brothers and sisters in Christ to love on you, answer your questions, and help grow you up in the ways of the Lord. Though it may be hard for you to tell right now, your life is going to change for the better, and you'll start seeing that as you mature spiritually."

Big brothers and sisters, maturation, and a new Father who would never die were all concepts Gus found both foreign and comforting at the same time. As the first born son, he had a great deal of responsibility thrust upon him at the loss of his earthly father, suddenly being wrenched from the carefree life of a college student seeking contractor's certification into that of a reluctant soldier who had to help keep his mother and high school age brother fed and sheltered. An enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he felt wave after wave after wave of relief sweeping over him, a greater release from heavy burdens than he had ever known! Such freedom dwarfed the elation he experienced when Kara wrote him and announced Mark had taken a job as a hired hand on a dairy farm, thus combining his pay with the widow's pension to keep the family afloat and extricate Gus from military service upon completion of his tour so no more Holiday men would risk lying in a veterans' cemetery. The euphoria surrounded him like a warm and fuzzy cocoon, and he almost felt like he was actually cradled in someone's arms! For reasons unknown to him, the yellow flames in the fireplace were brighter; the crackling was sharper; and everything in the house became more vivid than he could have possibly fathomed! So great was this awesome state of being, he failed to register the tickle in his nose that caused him to release a volley of four or five sneezes!


	12. First Steps

Chapter 12 – First steps

"I'm not who I was, being remade; I am new." – I am New by Jason Gray

Author's Note: As in Chapter 9, I do not claim ownership of the Christian devotional email on which the upcoming dream sequence is based.

Gus was still drinking in how his surroundings had become exponentially more vivid, more glorious, when an airborne throw pillow made direct contact with the right side of his head, piercing his euphoria! Elliquus wanted his attention and failed to attain it; therefore, he tossed the fluffy form over his shoulder as a playful way to snap his guest back to reality.

"What's this for?" the bewildered marble lifter wanted to know, holding up the soft projectile.

"Sorry about that; you were a million miles away. Gloria wants to warm up your tea and to know for certain which goblet is yours. Erudus said he had a few sips from his and confessed he didn't pay attention to the color goblet he used. Because Gloria was raised to believe people outside immediate family shouldn't drink after each other, and because she suspects you might be starting a cold, she's going to have to warm each one separately."

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm perfectly fine … don't think I'm picking up anything. As for which goblet I had, I wasn't exactly in the frame of mind to focus on what it looked like, but I want to say Erudus was nursing from a bright red one. You could see that particular shade cutting through a fog that's as thick as pea soup." Naturally, to prove that He has a sense of humor, God decided to allow the Roman to sneeze two more times, as if to say, "Not coming down with anything huh? Maybe you'll think twice before driving halfway across town in the pouring rain in an open chariot."

"Yeah, right, not starting a cold?" the gentleman scoffed before he called toward the kitchen. "Honey, I think Gus had the yellow one!"

Moments later, Gus and Erudus both sat sipping steaming goblets of chamomile tea, the former not too crazy about the taste but politely consuming it, for he knew his host meant well in offering it to him to help him knock out the last vestiges of a chill. He did appreciate how it warmed him from the inside out, and he felt the most amazing transformation that he would carry with him for the rest of his life. Only a short time ago, he stood shivering uncontrollably before the fire, perplexed and still with a lost soul; now he sat on the couch marveling at the wonder of salvation! Part of him could scarcely gather that he had once recoiled from believers because he thought they rained down spells and curses; and he had now become one, his father having reached beyond the grave to bring him into the Christian family! One thing was for sure, he never again had to worry about Cicero existing in a permanent state of torment. Now the question came to mind, how to introduce Jesus to the rest of his family members so none of them would be lost when it came time for them to leave their bodies and find out where their souls would reside for eternity.

"What are you thinking, buddy?" the more mature Christian read his spiritual little brother's countenance and realized his query would not be prying.

"Just thinking about my family. How do I break this to them? How do I get them interested in Jesus too? I can't let them slip away and miss out on God. I don't want them to go to Hell."

"Hold on, one question at a time," Elliquus lifted up his left hand to staunch the flow of words. "You must bear one thing in mind. You're not even an hour old in the faith, and you need to have some time to grasp what you are experiencing before you can let others in on it too. I truly appreciate and understand your excitement and wanting to lead your family to salvation, but at this time, you are no more ready to do so than Macius' youngest son is to drive a chariot or your daughter is to marry. As a baby Christian, you will need us to grow you up before you will be ready to share your faith with others and answer the questions they will undoubtedly have. Right now, the best thing you can do is what all babies do … learn, learn, learn."

"But how's that going to help? My mother's in her seventies; what if she dies before I'm supposed to have learned all this stuff? I may not have years and years to wait to be ready to lead her to Christ. Isn't time of the essence for her?"

"I can tell you are developing a heart for the lost, brother, and God will prepare you to win souls for Him one day. Just remember everybody matures at different rates depending on how well they grasp God and His word and how deeply dedicated they are to Him. If He intends for you to lead your mother to Christ, He will prepare you before her time comes. Bringing people to the truth has to be done with great care so the person isn't frightened away. A Christian who doesn't know what they're doing could risk causing that lost one to run from Jesus instead of running to him. If your mother's soul is weighing on your heart, you can pray to God that He will either prepare you to lead her, or that He will send just the right person who would say the right words to her and, therefore draw her to the Lord."

"No offence, Elliquus, but I'm not sure if I know how to pray; I don't use that flowery language you guys use." Gus politely protested, believing he would sound like a klutz when praying.

The home group leader guffawed softly. "Praying is just talking to God. Some people use 'flowery language' as you call it; some keep it short and succinct; some just engage in conversation as if they were talking to their friends around them. Yes, this is a lot to get used to, but you'll catch on quicker than you think. Before you know it, you'll be answering others' questions about Christ too."

Gus drew a heavy sigh before ingesting the rest of his hot drink. Had he bitten off more than he could chew? He knew that coming to Christianity was the right thing to do but was overwhelmed by the monumental tasks and mountain of learning that stood before him.

After another twenty-five minutes, the tea began to take effect, and it was time for all in the house to wash their goblets so they could use them for coffee in the morning, head upstairs, and call it a night. Gloria provided both guests with travel kits containing all the personal hygiene items they would need in order to get ready for bed. Such care packages were easy to replenish, as Gloria often collected pocket sized hygiene items from inns whenever she and her husband vacationed. Because the couple shared one bar of soap, one mini bottle of shampoo, one tube of toothpaste, et cetera between them, they often gathered up the unopened containers, knowing that the products would come to good use, whether at the inn as the proprietor intended, or at home when a member of Elliquus' "flock" wound up spending the night unexpectedly.

After the elder of the visitors finished brushing his teeth, he stashed his travel kit under the sink and allowed the younger his turn in the washroom. Yet again, another revelation through the looking glass would greet Augustus Holiday the second he finished brushing his teeth! Much to his surprise, the reflection in his eyes no longer denoted emptiness, nor a deep sense of longing; now they shined with such joy, a mantle of light that had been extinguished the day Cicero's untimely death had ruthlessly yanked him from the final years of idealistic youth into the burdens of manhood he didn't expect to know until he was to marry and become a parent. For the first time in twenty-three years, he felt young again, free! No longer was he staring into the visage of a dead burned out shell of a man, but he was now gazing into those of a new creation whose vitality was restored and best years were ahead of him!

"Well done, Augustus. Your life is about to change." There He was, the friendly apparition, whom Gus now knew for certain was God Himself! "As you mature in Me, you will begin seeing everything in a different light. You have led your own life with no help for years; now, take My hand and allow me to lead you; I will not let you come to anything that isn't part of My plan for you. NO matter what happens to you and your family, I will never leave you."

"What do you mean by that? No matter what happens, and You're promising me you won't leave? Are you saying something serious is going to happen to Laurie or the kids?"

"As long as you are still living on this Earth, you will encounter blessings and trials. The difference between you yesterday and you from this point on is now you have Me to rejoice with you through the good days and carry you through the hard times. Do not concern yourself with periods of sunshine or sorrow, for those days will come soon enough. Tonight you must rest."

Not wanting to ruin his state of elation, Gus said nothing more and concentrated on only what he could do for that night. He packed away his toothbrush and toothpaste and stowed his kit on a window sill above the hamper. He then emerged from the bathroom and met the rest of his friends in the hallway, where Erudus gratefully accepted something to wear for the night.

"Gus, I hope you don't mind taking the den; Erudus said he needs the guest room because it's an easier walk to the bathroom. That rollaway bed is practically new and is really comfortable, and Gloria left you an extra blanket in case you need it. Your room's at the end of the hall."

"Thank you, Elliquus … for everything you've done for us. I know hosting Erudus and me for the night was probably the last thing you were expecting," Gus clapped his friend on the shoulder to convey gratitude for the wealth of hospitality extended to him and senior citizen.

"I'm glad to do it, brother," the homeowner smiled warmly, his eyes shining brightly.

The thunderstorm increased in intensity as the guests bid their hosts and each other good night before entering their rooms. Gus closed the door and pulled back the covers on the rollaway bed, sliding between the sheets and pulling the cozy duvets up to his chin. The rain drumming on the roof and the wind driving the drops against the window pane couldn't have been a finer lullaby for God to sing to the spiritual newborn, who drifted into sweet sleep.

"Come on, get up!" a centurion's glib voice rent the silence while his heavy hand grasped Augustus Holiday by the left arm and roughly yanked him upright. Unhappily, he was back in that prison cell from four days ago, occupying the same institutional bunk. "It's time to go! You won't need this anymore; Prisoners aren't allowed to wear the laurel wreath." With that, he precipitously yanked Gus's wreath from his head and flung it out of sight. He then seized Holiday by both arms and thrust him forward.

Just outside the jail cell, another centurion stood with the same heavy length of chain that he used to restrain the detainee the last time he was in their presence. He rattled on about how it was procedure for all inmates to be fettered in the courtroom as he applied the iron chain to Gus and secured the cuffs around his wrists and ankles so tightly it was certain to cause bruising.

"Let's go!" the law enforcement officer commanded in a sharp voice, tearing Holiday away from the first guard and bidding him march. This couldn't be happening a second time, but there he was, the accused man dragging his chains noisily behind him with every painstaking step he took. Then he, again, found himself being harshly plunked into a chair in the defendant's box within that dreaded but very familiar courtroom. Only now, an Israelite man, strong in stature, stood beside him. Strange? There was no defense attorney the first time around.

Again, the prosecutor entered the room and took his place at his own station, unrolling some scrolls and casting steely daggers to the defendant. As before, the only thing that tore Gus's gaze away from this awful man was the entry of the awesome judge in full flowing robes, a presence whom everyone in the court, save the prosecutor, still highly respected!

"Hear-ye hear-ye, this court is now in session!" The bailiff loudly called out, stamping his staff on the floor and bringing everyone to order.

"We are here to determine the eternal destination of one Augustus Holiday; I see the prosecuting and defending attorneys are present. The prosecution may begin his opening arguments," the presiding presence announced after having settled in his own comfortable seat behind the bench.

"Judge, My name is Beelzebub, and I am here to prove why this dog before you belongs in Hell," the prosecuting attorney's hissing and growling voice still sent chills down Gus's spine.

As he did the first time, the scoundrel regaled the judge with every fault the defendant had ever had from childhood to the present. Unhappily, when Holiday opened his mouth to speak up for himself, the defense attorney would squeeze his arm or press two fingers against his lips to silently signal that he had better keep quiet for his own good. Every time Gus shot him an incredulous gaze, the defender mouthed the words "trust me" but said nothing more. Much to the criminal's chagrin, the arguments continued in spades until the final statement was rendered, the defending attorney offering not one objection on Holiday's behalf!

"Now, the defense may begin his opening arguments." The judge gestured to the Israelite.

"Request permission to approach the bench, Your Honor," the kindly gentleman spoke with both confidence and soothing tones.

"Granted," the judge agreed, ignoring the prosecutor's rude protestations that were laced with a string of profanities.

As the benevolent lawyer ambled to the bench, Gus recognized this was not just an Israelite attorney; this majestic and splendid man could be none other than Jesus Christ representing him!

"Hello, Father," he addressed the judge before turning to face the court. "Yes, it is true that this man has sinned and fallen short of the Father's glory; it would be foolishness to argue against that. It is written that the wage of sin is death; however, though he does deserve to be punished, I laid down my life on a cross and took his punishment in his stead. He has accepted me as his personal Savior and, therefore, belongs to me forever. Augustus Holiday was born again on the twenty-fourth of Maius, AD sixty-four at eleven O four Post Meridian." With that, he returned to Gus's side. "Now, I have done everything I can for you; all there is left to do is await the judge's verdict," he spoke gently to his obviously apprehensive client who fidgeted where he sat.

"Will the defendant please rise and approach the bench?" the judge kept his voice glib, his jaw set as the bailiff hoisted the Roman from his seat and led him before the honorable man. With the glorious transformation to his more splendid form, the presiding presence pronounced sentence. "Augustus Holiday, you are free to go; your penalty has already been paid in full; you will spend eternity in Heaven when your time comes. This case is dismissed!" The slamming of his gavel signaled the end of the taxing trial and washed a tidal wave of relief over Gus.

Without speaking a word, Jesus stepped in front of his client, standing toe to toe with him and clasping his hands. Suddenly, the double fetters disappeared from the wrists and ankles of the liberated fellow and appeared on those of his companion. Crimson blood oozed from under the metal cuffs, and the sacrificial lamb stepped back three paces, profound anguish and suffering manifesting upon his now bruised visage. He collapsed to the floor and rose after a brief flash of darkness in the courtroom. Then when the lights came back on, he stood upright, glowing brighter and richer than sunshine, restored of his full strength and devoid of any blood loss. Without need for a key, he then removed the shackles as effortlessly as one would shed a pair of sandals and ornamental bracelets! With a mighty thrust, he cast the chains to the side and gestured for the freed man to accompany him as they exited the room, the adversary's rage ringing out for all to hear, for he had lost his case and could not take this soul to Hell!

The dream faded out naturally, causing Gus to slumber peacefully through most of the night; however, when he had awakened to relieve himself as he was wont to do at home, he sneezed three times and realized that he erred in his earlier statement and could be succumbing to a cold after all. Before crawling back into bed, he hastily tossed the extra blanket over the other covers, appreciating the warmth it provided. The morning sky was a drab shade of uniform gray, whose clouds pressed in over the city of Rome and continued to release steady showers upon the landscape, casting it into a dampness that would only be burned off by the next long sunny break. This was just the morning when it would have been ideal to spend hours nestled in bed; however, Gus knew he had to return home and begin working on those scrolls for Mr. Tycoonius. Concluding that lying around would not get his work done, he reluctantly slid out from under his cocoon of comforters and made his way downstairs to see if he could grab a quick bite and get his toga back so he and Bear could return to the apartment house.

"He's alive!" Elliquus greeted his guest, doing his best Dr. Frankenstein impression and reaping snorts of laughter from Erudus and Gus as a result.

"You watch horror flics?" the new convert queried with arched eyebrows. Somehow, green as he was, he didn't think Christianity and such films went together at all.

"Not for a long time. Jubulus and I used to watch them every weekend during our pre-salvation days; then we quit when God revealed to us that those movies glorified death and would make us dangerously desensitized to it. You know, neither of us miss them at all now."

"I forgot about that; are there things I have to quit now, foods I have to stay away from, activities that are off limits to me? Are there things I'm still OK to enjoy?"

"Oh, by all means, there are still plenty of things you can do and eat; Christianity is supposed to add to your joy, not take from it. IN fact, you will be even happier than you have ever been in your entire life. The things you would be giving up are things that would be bad for you anyway, and God would change your heart so your interest in such things will slip naturally. At first, it was strange for us not to watch those movies, but we soon discovered they weren't that great after all. We're more into films that uplift and inspire the audience now, and we wouldn't have it any other way. For you, it might not be a certain type of program you watch, but it could be a habit or behavior pattern you grew up with. You might have to quit whatever it is and replace it with something that would do you a greater good. Maybe you've got a pride problem you need to overcome before God can allow you a blessing He has in mind for you; maybe you're a very patriotic Roman who should stop the rituals for the Emperor's glory and start glorifying God instead, for only God deserves our highest allegiance. When he was still alive, Jesus even said to give to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's, meaning we do still have to pay our taxes to the Emperor, but we should give our allegiance to God."

"I have to admit this is going to take a lot of getting used to," Gus sighed as he plopped down on the couch and wedged a throw pillow under his back for a little added support.

"I know this can be overwhelming for new Christians, but you'll get the hang of it before you realize it. We take eighteen to twenty-one years to reach adulthood and enjoy the attendant privileges and responsibilities that go with it, but a Christian's maturation depends on his or her commitment to God. I've seen baby Christians grow up in just a couple of years, and I've seen people twenty years in the faith still struggling with the fundamentals."

"And then what happens once we've matured? Is that it? We pass the proverbial class?"

"I wouldn't say that, it's not like going through school and graduating at the end; like we do in our everyday lives, we never stop learning until we go home to be with God."

Gus knew he had better shut his mouth, for with every answer Elliquus provided; new questions swirled about in his spiritually newborn mind. He glanced over to the mantle clock, his jaw dropping open at the reading he beheld! "Aargh yipes! It can't be nine fifteen! I should have been on my way an hour ago! My boss will want those blueprints on his desk when I go in tomorrow, or my head's going to roll! Guess I should have remembered to leave a wakeup call."

"To be honest, Gloria sent me up to wake you when she was cooking the porridge, but you were sleeping like a log. Even a chariot race going through your room wouldn't have roused you. With all that sneezing you were doing last night, it didn't take a genius to figure you needed the extra rest to fight off any vestiges of a cold, so I just left you to wake up on your own. The three of us already ate, but Gloria said she won't mind fixing a single serving of porridge for you once she's started a load of washing. As for your horse, what kind of feed does he eat? Ours is so finicky, we have just the high test oats here."

"Bear will eat anything, but we try to give him high test oats. I didn't want to leave him in the rain last night and didn't know where else he could go, so I put him in that empty shed in the back yard. I'll bet he's so hungry his stomach thinks his throat's been cut. Hap normally runs down to feed him before he heads off to school." Gus said before sneezing.

"Bless you. How about I show you where the oats are kept, and you can feed Bear, then come back inside and feed yourself." With that, Elliquus produced a large blue and white umbrella from the front closet and motioned for Gus to follow him to the back door.

It didn't take long for the men to see to Bear's needs and return to the shelter of the warm house, and Gloria had begun preparing Gus's breakfast now that his clothing was downstairs in the wash cycle. Gathering from snatches of conversation she heard in passing during the Sunday fellowship mealtimes, the lady of the house recalled Gus was hypertensive and realized he would be without his medication. She offered him a spoonful of honey and cinnamon mixed together in a paste, as she knew it helped not only with cholesterol as in her husband's case, but with high blood pressure. The rain continued to cascade steadily down upon the saturated ground, not wanting to relinquish its power to drive everyone indoors, thus leading the foursome to wonder how the day could be spent productively since venturing out in the relentless elements would neither be fair to man nor horse.

"I don't think the rain has stopped since yesterday afternoon and doesn't plan to," Gus observed as he left his now empty porridge bowl in the sink to soak and peered out the window at the seemingly perpetual downpour that occasionally blew sideways with each gust of wind. "Oh boy, that'll make it easy to get home and work on those blueprints, especially since you told Laurie what you did last night about not letting me drive in the bad weather." With that, he returned to his seat at the kitchen table so he could finish his coffee.

"I understand these blueprints of yours are important, Gus, but I can't, in good conscience, send you out in that rainstorm. You can't blame poor Laurie for calling me all upset last night, especially after what happened to you last month. I'll bet the thought of you driving out alone in heavy winds and rain will make her nervous for quite a while," the kindly homeowner pointed out before retrieving some bottles from the lazy-Susan that sat on the counter next to the refrigerator. He then placed an orange chewable pill and a small tube of pink disks in front of his guest who eyed them with a bemused expression. "Gloria asked me to give you these. She's downstairs giving Caesar his bath, probably getting one herself in the process," the thought of his wife's task of bathing the family pet caused chortles to bubble up inside him, as this chore often morphed into a scene that would typically be found in a cartoon or situation comedy! Normally, logic would dictate he go down and help her; however, Caesar only tolerated Gloria's gentle touch, finding Elliquus to be too rough. "When it's bath time, that crazy lion won't let me anywhere near him." The jovial man snickered, "Who ever heard of a lion that is downright wimpy over who scrubs him and how that person scrubs him? If he sees me coming, he hides."

"Oh, I know all about wimpy lions; Brutus cries more than he roars, and Laurie doesn't help matters babying him like she does. He's more like a cat than a lion, except for his appetite."

"Same with our fur ball downstairs. Maybe our lions aren't great watch animals or the kings of the beasts we'd be proud to parade down the Appian Way, but at least they're safe to keep around as pets for our wives and children. I see you're staring at the tube and that apparently lion sized pill sitting in front of you. The orange tablet is a chewable vitamin C, and the tube is full of soluble pucks that are supposed to boost your immune system if you are starting a cold. Just drop one of them into a juice size goblet of warm water and drink it after it's totally dissolved. The directions say to take them three times a day until the tube is empty, just like when you take antibiotics; if you stop sooner, your cold might try to come back." He filled a clean drinking vessel with warm water and presented it to his houseguest.

"Thank you, buddy," Gus gratefully accepted his host's kindness, chewing up the citrus flavored vitamin and waiting for the natural remedy to finish fizzing and be ready to drink. He then shot back the delicious berry flavored concoction and toted the empty goblets to the sink. "Looks like I'm going to have to call Mr. Tycoonius when I get home and tell him why those blueprints will be a few days overdue; they'll take me an entire day and a couple hours of overtime to finish."

"Why not call him now? Your apprehension tells me he's one of those intimidating ogre types of a boss; however, there should be absolutely no reason he shouldn't give you an extension, especially if the circumstances are not your fault. You've got nothing to lose except the two minutes it takes for you to place the call and the creepy crawly scary fear of punishment."

Knowing his friend was right; Gus padded into the living room and picked up the phone. "Please, please, please, let him understand what's going on and give me that extension," he muttered under his breath as he dialed and awaited the line coming to life with his boss on the other end. The purring telephone rings sounded off in his left ear, and a series of clicks interrupted the rhythmic sound for a second before allowing the trilling tones to resume. Apparently there was no answer at the office, and the call had been automatically routed to Tycoonius' private residence, something that only happened in emergency situations!

"Hello, Tycoonius residence," the employer's loud spoken voice boomed into the phone.

"Uh, Mr. Tycoonius … this is Gus Holiday," the marble lifter nervously began after a sneeze, fearful he would wind up suffering undue consequences or even be fired. "Uh, you see, sir, it's like this … I was over at a friend's house and ended up spending the night because of the bad weather and … I just woke up half an hour, forty-five minutes ago and … if the downpour doesn't let up, I'll be late getting home and won't be able to have the blueprints for the Caesar High School amphitheater ready for Mr. Maximus by tomorrow morning."

"Well, if you just woke up half an hour ago, Holiday, you obviously didn't see the morning news report. Centurions closed down all major roads due to flooding and many drivers' chariots getting stuck in the mud. Nobody's going anywhere, and the office is closed today, possibly tomorrow if the centurions don't reopen the roads by six o'clock in the morning. Because this is a state of emergency, missing work today won't count against you."

"Oh, thank you, sir," Gus breathed a sigh of relief, grateful his employment was still secure.

"Don't thank me, Holiday, thank the centurions who shut down the roads and cost me a full day's work, for which, per company policy, I still have to pay all of you," Tycoonius grumbled, showing he hadn't completely turned over a new leaf. "My secretary will notify you when outdoor work will resume; in the meantime, you have those blueprints to finish. You will have at most two business days after the roads are reopened to get them in; do I make myself clear!"

"Yes, Mr. Tycoonius, I hear you loud and clear." Once terse goodbyes were exchanged and the phone was returned to its base, Gus sighed and reclined on the couch like a puppet whose strings had been severed. "Thank You," he whispered, absently facing Heavenward. After a moment, he turned to see the smiling faces of Elliquus and Erudus, both men sitting side by side on the loveseat crumpling sections of yesterday's morning scroll into kindling that would be cast into the fireplace. "I didn't know making paper balls for the fire was so enjoyable," he observed, having failed to realize the true reason for the fellows' grins.

"Look who just took his first baby step in the Lord!" Erudus gleefully announced with a twinkle in his eye and a boyish grin splitting his age creased features!

"Gus, do you know what just happened here?" Elliquus beamed with utter delight.

"Tycoonius didn't lower the boom on me for not getting those blueprints in by tomorrow?"

"Not that, pal, what were you doing when you were dialing the phone? You were mumbling something under your breath," the overjoyed fellow prompted, his countenance aglow.

"I was a nervous wreck he was going to let me have it and was asking that I get the extension."

"But who did you ask, son; you weren't even talking to your boss yet," the eldest of the men prodded with expectation, for he was certain Gus's answer would confirm his postulation.

"I guess it was God," the convert replied sheepishly, feeling like he was back in school again.

"Yes! Gus Holiday, do you realize you said your first prayer to God, and He answered you?" Elliquus could hardly contain his excitement at witnessing the progress of a baby Christian!

"That's it? Just talking to Him like anyone else; I thought you had to be more formal when talking to someone that perfect, high up, and important." Gus arched his eyebrows.

"Yes, we should treat God with reverence, but He loves us and also wants us to love Him back and be in a personal relationship with Him like we would with a family member or best friend."

"It's just like when you were growing up under your parents' roof. Weren't there times when you used to pal around with your pop but others when you had to give him the respect he deserved simply because he was your father?" Erudus wisely pointed out, hoping to leave a lasting impression that would facilitate Gus's first steps as he walked with the Lord.

"Isn't that the way it is with any father and his kids? My dad and I had fun together, talked about practically everything over a pool table or bowling game, and took weekends to go fishing or do some project involving a tool box. Then there were times when he had to exercise authority, let me know he was the boss in the house and expected me to respect that, and even make sure I learn my lesson if I got into trouble. Now, I'm doing the same thing with my own son."

"Look at it this way, my boy, God's your new dad … only difference is He doesn't have the skin on, and he can't die by the sword like your earthly father did. All you have to do is love and respect Him and keep getting to know Him better every day," the senior citizen smiled broadly.

That was one concept Gus still had yet to fully grasp, for he had spent most of his adult life as a fatherless man, no longer having his pop to turn to when new situations such as employment, marriage, and parenthood presented themselves. When Cicero was still alive, young Augustus believed there was still plenty of time for them to spend together and talk about the issues he would face upon graduation from college and entry into the world on his own. Though his paternal grandfather and father-in-law were there to support and advise him as best they could, nothing could fill the void left by the sudden loss of his dad, to whom he looked up and from whom he received unconditional love. Though he was now adopted into the Christian family and was no longer fatherless, he felt a nibbling in his soul, an emotional nudge that left him longing for even one day with Cicero so they could have a long heart to heart about many things: how they felt upon their conversions, how to conduct themselves so they were not ashamed of God but still could be protective of their loved ones, and even how to break the news to their families; after all, Laurie, Hap, and Precocia would learn of his conversion sooner or later. Because Gus was a civilian, he likely wouldn't' be as severely torn as his part-time military father was; and if Macius, Elliquus, and the other men in the group could openly practice their faith without endangering their families and friends, why couldn't he?


	13. Birth Announcement

Chapter 13 – Birth announcement

"Our day is today, our moment is now," – Once In A Lifetime by David Meece

A finer day and a half couldn't be spend by Gus as he and Erudus waited out the storm at Elliquus' house, talking about Jesus and how the inexperienced convert was to properly walk out his new life when he left the presence of his Christian brothers and sister to return to his apartment and family. Since the weather left everyone confined indoors and two of the foursome didn't have additional changes of clothing, they had all decided getting dressed for that day was highly overrated. Because the roads hadn't been reopened until nine the following morning, the visitors wound up spending another night away from their own homes, destined to leave after everyone had their baths, Gloria returned Gus's freshly laundered undergarments and toga, and the four partook of a hot lunch. Final thank you's and familial hugs were exchanged among guests and hosts before Elliquus drove Erudus home and Augustus headed back to his apartment.

"Honey, I'm home!" Mr. Holiday cheerfully called as he entered his abode, hung up his cloak, and dropped the cookie tin that contained Cicero's scroll, chewable vitamins, and the soluble immune booster onto the chair.

"Oh, hi, dear, I'm so glad you're finally home!" Laurie gushed, throwing her arms around her deeply missed husband and pecking him on the left cheek, absolutely elated to see the perplexed state of mind he had been in was no more; however, she was still somewhat vexed over the events that had transpired only an hour ago. Of course, nothing could prepare her for what happened before she had released her hold on him! Gus suddenly clamped his strong arms around her, lifted her off the floor, and passionately kissed her on the lips as he had done when they were two youths in the throes of courtship!

"OH, get a room!" Landlord Evictus rudely interrupted the moment of marital bliss, causing both man and wife to stare at him with wide eyes of utter shock! After all, this was their home!

"Evictus, what are you doing here? My rent's not due until the first!" the head of the Holiday household demanded to know the reason for this intrusion! Suddenly, a bitter stench assaulted his nostrils and the last vestiges of lingering smoke stung his eyes. "Hey, what's going on? Did that dingaling stove act up and disintegrate perfectly good food? It stinks in here."

"To answer your questions, Holiday, your range nearly burned down this apartment house! I was happily watching the mid day news on TV when I heard that lion of yours making a racket loud enough to wake the dead and your wife and daughter screaming. By the time I got up here, the smoke alarm was going off; and I saw your son run into the kitchen, grab the extinguisher, and put out the fire. Good thing for you there was only superficial damage done to the cabinets, walls, and ceiling, but that range is a fire hazard and will have to be replaced immediately."

"Somehow, I don't think it would have become a fire hazard if you'd honored the work orders when Laurie tried to put them in with you; she'd been after you to get up here for months." It took every ounce of restraint Gus could muster not to fly into a fit of pique, for the landlord's negligence might have cost him his home and family! "_Thank You, God, for stopping that fire before it could have gotten out of hand,"_ he almost inaudibly voiced his gratitude before heaving a weary sigh and returning his attention to Evictus. "So if the stove has to be replaced, how long will that take from start to finish? I know we're in for some inconvenience in the interim."

"First that Roman ruin of a range has to be disposed of; the cabinets will have to be replaced; then the kitchen walls and ceiling will have to be scrubbed and painted; naturally, this means the whole apartment will need a new coat of paint in order to keep everything looking presentable. We can't have one room looking like new while the rest of them haven't been touched. Supposing I have to put your apartment back on the market in the near future." The uncaring man made it no secret he still would look for any excuse to evict the Holiday family, though they had no idea why Evictus had this vendetta against them.

"Awww, gee, why doesn't it surprise me you'd want to do that, Mr. Evictus?" Holiday commented as he rolled his eyes, his vocal tones laced with sarcasm. "But seriously, how soon after the paint job until we get the new stove; my family has to eat you know."

"I will have to order one that will take up the same amount of space as the old one; if something is available at Demetrius Downtown Discounts, I can replace it as soon as someone can deliver it; however, if I have to mail order it, that will take four to six weeks."

"Four to six weeks!" the tenant protested before suddenly receiving correction from his newly acquired spiritual parent.

"Augustus, I am your provider and know your family needs food. You may not eat the way you are used to, but you will not starve."

"Do what you have to, Evictus. No matter when you're able to get the new stove in here, how long will the rest of the work take? We'll need somewhere to stay until the paint fumes clear."

"First, I will go downstairs and contact the solid waste department and see how soon they'll take the range; then the day after, I will have maintenance come up here, replace the cabinets, and paint the apartment. By then, you will want to get everything out of the way and cover your tacky furniture. If anybody in your family has allergies, I recommend you stay out for at least a week to be sure the paint job is done and the fumes have cleared. Good day, Holidays." With that, Evictus made his departure, leaving the family to sort out their upcoming housing problem.

"Gus, we can't go to a cheap inn; none of the ones I know of allow pets, and you know Brutus won't let us board him at the vet," Laurie reluctantly pointed out, concerned that the family would be in a pickle for want of pet friendly lodging. "We'll all have to stay at separate houses."

"Hey, that's no problem, Mom, Brutus and I can stay at Groovia's house," Happy casually suggested as he briskly brushed the soot from his toga.

"Oh no you won't, mister!" Gus laid down the law, feeling in the spirit that it would be improper for the two teens to reside under one roof. "If Herman and Henrietta are willing to keep Brutus, we can try to find an affordable inn, but there is no way I'm letting you, a young man who is at the height of his male prime, stay in the same house overnight with your girlfriend."

"But, Pop…" the teenager protested, somewhat insulted because he felt he was still being treated like a little kid who had to stand silently and allow his father to make decisions for him.

"The subject is closed; you may be close to becoming a man, but as long as you are living under my roof for free, I'm still the boss, capiche?"

"yes, sir," the lad gulped as he hung his head, realizing Gus's patriarch status afforded him unconditional respect, so he knew he had better say nothing more on the subject.

As she sat on the couch nursing a goblet of ice water, Precocia felt as if a hunk of flaming catapulted projectile had smacked her between the eyes. Wasn't it last year when both her and Groovia's families shared a mansion during the Caesar's Birthday vacation in Pompeii Springs with no protestations from Gus? Wasn't it the head of the Holidays, himself, who invited the threesome to stay with them when he heard they were unhappy with their resort accommodations? So why would he suddenly have a problem with Happius' residing temporarily at Groovia's house when her parents would be present? She could not help suspecting her daddy's new circle of friends of ruining him, for it was only since he began spending lunch hours and Sundays with them that he had begun to morph into a man who presented with Gus Holiday's physical appearance and voice but no longer acted like him.

"Hey, you guys need to knock it off!" Happy, exercising his authority as the eldest in the yard quickly approached and spoke sharply to two nine-year-old boys who had taken a four-year-old girl's doll and proceeded to play keep away with it while the toddler stood and screamed like a banshee. "If you don't want me to go into that house and rat you guys out, you have three seconds to give Tina her doll back! One … two … three!" Receiving no compliance from the lads who would not relinquish the toy, Hap stared coldly into their eyes. "You had been warned, and since you wouldn't listen, don't blame me if your dad jumps all over you." With that, he precipitously marched up to Elliquus' back porch to execute the unpleasant duty of informing officer while the other teens continued to watch the younger children.

"Hap," Precocia, who was sitting on the back porch swing with a first aid kit by her side, gained her big brother's attention as she applied some baking soda to a series of bug bites she acquired upon stepping on an ant hill. "Do you have a minute; I need to talk to you about something."

The first born of the Holiday siblings grimaced at the swollen site on his sister's ankle but soon relaxed when he noticed she wasn't too perturbed over it and had everything under control. "In a minute, sis, I'm going to have to blow the whistle on the twins; they're picking on Tina again."

Knowing exactly the buttons to push with those two troublemakers, Precocia turned her head to face the back yard and shouted in the boys' direction, "Give that doll back, or I'll come over there and kiss you guys on the lips in front of everybody!"

"Aargh! Girl cooties! Yuck!" the boys loudly commented before carelessly casting the doll into the grass, where Tina lovingly scooped it up and cradled it in her arms.

"Thanks, Precocia," Happius voiced his gratitude for having been rescued from interrupting the adults' meeting and playing the unwilling tattle tale. "So what's up?" he inquired, fishing a roll of bandages out of the first aid kit while she removed her sandal.

"Something strange is going on around here; you won't believe what I saw in the kitchen. When I stepped on that ant hill, I went inside to ask where they kept the first aid kit, and one of the ladies told me to use baking soda on the bites before bandaging them. I found the kit behind the step stool by the back door and had backtracked for the baking soda when I saw this big giant birthday cake sitting on the counter by the stove."

"So it's someone's birthday, big deal. What's so strange about that?" Hap shrugged casually.

"For one thing, they seem to bring out the birthday cakes at the beginning of each month for everyone having birthdays that month, and the writing says, 'Happy birthday' and the month. This is the end of the month, and Daddy's name was on this one. We know it's nowhere near his birthday, and they should know it. When we came here for the third time, they asked us for all our birthdays and Mom and Daddy's anniversary, so I can't understand why they went out of their way and made him a special cake."

"Maybe someone goofed and got Pop's and my birthdays mixed up? Remember, mine falls this Saturday, and it's considered a milestone birthday with the Emperor considering me to be an adult and my having to register for the draft after graduation. Anyways, we'll find out what's going on soon enough when they start serving lunch," Happy noted as he gingerly slipped Precocia's sandal onto her now dressed foot, oblivious to the fact that as they spoke, the younger Roman's suspicions were being confirmed as the teaching session was coming to a close.

"Before we call the children and pray the blessing over the food, we have some praise reports to announce and some needs to make known," Elliquus rolled up his scrolls and smiled, glancing in the direction of his newest convert. "First, let's take care of the need that was brought to my attention early this morning, which Gus will tell you about in more detail. Then Annia and Neddia will have their turn." The group leader had to bite his tongue to prevent the word "brother' from issuing forth, for it was not the right time for the birth announcement.

"Around midday Friday, we had a fire in our kitchen; nothing was destroyed except for the food that was cooking, and our stove has been deemed unsafe and will be sent to the dump sometime this week. Because of smoke damage, the apartment has to be painted, and we don't have anywhere to go. Our Son Happy did reconnaissance around the inns we could afford, and he said they were either in seedy neighborhoods or were 'roach motels' as he put it. We have someone to keep our lion, but we need a place … or a couple places for the four of us to stay for at least a week while we're waiting for the fumes to clear. We're not sure the exact day we'll have to be out; the landlord said maintenance will be in the day after the stove is taken away."

"Elliquus, that goes hand in hand with our need, for we have to find someone to keep an eye on our place while we're visiting my parents! Why not let the Holidays do it and still be able to stay together while they're displaced?" Annia piped up with a grin curving her pink lips. "Neddia and I have a double and two single beds. If you folks don't mind pet sitting Stormy and your children sharing one bedroom, consider the house yours while we're gone."

"Oh dear, we can't put you out just so we can stay together, Annia," a shocked Laurie gasped.

"It's OK, Laurie, we've been planning this for quite a while since Kootenay Creek Camp shut down for repairs this summer and nixed our annual blind people's retreat. We haven't been able to find a house sitter in the neighborhood; everyone we asked was either unable to do it because of scheduling conflicts, wanted more money from us than we could afford, or couldn't be around Stormy. If you can move in and keep an eye on everything, that would be a great help to us."

"Last night, we prayed that God would send us a house sitter this morning, so we wouldn't have to call Annia's parents and cancel our vacation plans," Neddia voiced her and her roommate's profound gratitude for a perfect solution that would enable them to still make their trip and, at the same time, be a blessing to a temporarily homeless family in their hour of need.

"Ladies, you have no idea how much better this makes me feel. I wasn't sure what we would have done. I couldn't take time off to stay with my brother in Parma because Hap has final exams at the end of this week, and his graduation ceremony falls a week from Friday night. Thank you very much!" _And thank You too,_ he silently expressed how grateful he was to his Creator for having sent such a rapid solution to his housing problem.

"Well, praise God for putting these folks together and providing the solutions to two problems in one fell swoop!" Elliquus beamed with delight and a twinkle in his eye. "Now let's make this day even better with our praise reports. From that grin plastered across Erudus' face, I know he has at least one to share with us!"

"We're going to have one of our family members returning to us; my better half, Gractia, won't have to work on Sundays anymore as of the beginning of Iunius! They're finally transferring her to the nine to five shift at the animal hospital!" For the last three years, Erudus had to attend services alone, for his wife, who had worked as a veterinarian since heart issues forced him to leave the Roman Army on a medical discharge twenty years ago, had been stuck with the weekend shift upon a co-worker's job transfer, thus preventing her from gaining the spiritual feeding Elliquus offered every week. "She hasn't stopped prattling on about coming back since she came home announcing her new shift!"

"Well, glory to God! We're all going to be glad to welcome Gractia back to her church home! Are there any other praise reports? I know of one, but it really should be the last for the day." Only hearing a forty-five second silence, Elliquus glanced heavenward and silently asked if it was time, and his peaceful state confirmed it, indeed, was time for the tidings that would turn the congregation on its ear and fill the room with joyful noises! "Brothers and sisters,

We have a brand new family member among us. Last Wednesday night, Erudus and Gus were visiting and ended up spending the night because of the storm. While here just after eleven o'clock, Erudus was used by God to lead Gus to salvation! Our friend Gus Holiday is now and will always be our brother in Christ!"

"Hahahahahahahaha!" Macius laughed raucously, pumping his fist in the air, wishing with every fiber of his being that there was enough space in the room for him to jump around screaming at the top of his lungs with absolute glee! "Yes! Yes! Yes! Praise be to God on high!"

The varied visages bore witness to the array of reactions experienced by the joyous, yet stunned congregation: Erudus absolutely glowed as if he had managed to have consumed the sun itself; Annia and Neddia sat grinning from ear to ear; Jubilus blinked in surprise; Healthia's hand, holding what was left of her pink frosted donut, had stopped midway to her mouth; Corticus and Aimius slapped each other's palms as if they had witnessed a victory at a sporting event; Some of the wives stared wide eyed for a moment before offering up their own verbal praises, though not as loudly as macius' ecstatic vocalizations. Laurie, her mouth agape and her heart fluttering a mile a minute, sat in a state of utter shock, her wide eyes affixed to her husband and her left hand dropping a piece of sour dough bread with homemade dip into her lap!

"A … a …Christian? My Gus is a Christian?" she stammered nervously as she accepted a damp napkin from Gloria and dabbed away the spot on her toga. "I don't understand; how could he have … I mean he hasn't changed any at home that I can see … except that he's been in a better mood since coming here, and he's just like a teenager again." After blotting away the last traces of the spot with a dry napkin, she looked her life's partner directly in the eyes and simply asked, "Why didn't you tell me, Gus? We've never kept secrets from each other before."

Gus lovingly cupped his wife's chin in his hand and cast the most sincere eyes upon her he had since having popped the question to her so long ago. "Believe me, honey, I never meant to keep anything from you. I just didn't know how or when to break the news. I knew it would be a big blow to you since you'd never seen Christians until we started coming over here; I wanted to show you I am still the same old Gus Holiday who loves you and wants to spend the rest of my life with you. The only difference between me last Wednesday afternoon and me now is I have a new Father who will help me as I take care of you, Hap, and Precocia. Before I was doing it alone and making a mess of it; now, I have someone who will lead me as I lead you. Erudus and Elliquus told me God loved me and wanted to be my Dad, but He's a gentleman who was waiting for me to tell Him that, yes, I wanted Him to be my Dad."

"But if you needed a father figure in your life, you know Daddy said he would be there for you any time you need him. What can this God do for you that my father can't?" Laurie voiced her protestations with not one shred of malice, but only pure confusion and ignorance.

"I know Felix says he is always there for me, and don't think for one second I don't appreciate it. There is more that goes into it that I can't put into words right now; all I can tell you is I knew right down to my guts that it was something I really needed to do."

"Did it have to do with whatever that was that upset you Wednesday night?"

"Sweetheart, please, it's not easy to talk about, especially in front of all these people. I had a hard enough time spilling it to Elliquus that night. I promise you, Laurie, I will tell you everything soon enough, but I'm just not ready now."

"Laurie, I know this obviously is a shock to you and that you want to know what happened Wednesday night and how Gus came to this decision so suddenly. However, I can tell you in all earnestness what he told me was very serious, and it may take some time for him to come to terms with it enough so he can sit down with you and talk calmly about it. Just give him plenty of time and love him; that's all you can do for him right now; the rest of you can show your support by lifting up unspoken prayer requests for our new brother."

Dumbstruck, Mrs. Holiday dove against her hubby, whose arms gently snaked around her and squeezed her as a silent message his love for her was as strong as ever and he would do everything within his power to make sure she and the children would be secure with him. He, also at a loss for words lightly kissed her several times and reached his right hand up to tenderly stroke her soft, autumn red tresses.

Elliquus wordlessly approached the couple while they were still in their embrace and rested his warm, gentle hands on each one's shoulder. "Our Father in Heaven, we love You and we now lift up our new baby brother in Christ and his family into Your arms now. Please fill Gus with a zeal for You as well as wisdom concerning how to comport himself in the public square and at home. Please grant Laurie, Happius, and Precocia open minds and open hearts to tune out any hearsay from those who fear or hate members of the Christian family. Please comfort them and enable them to provide any moral support Gus will undoubtedly need. Just like natural babies, Your spiritual babies need lots of love, encouragement, and nurturing. Please raise a hedge of protection and a band of Your angels around this family at all times, and please cover them with an unquenchable sense of peace now and forever. In Jesus' Name, Amen."

After Elliquus finished his prayer, the group echoed their Amen's and all filed out into the back yard to alert the children that it was finally time to break into the mid day meal!

"All right, everybody, it's time to eat! After we ask the blessing, you children can lay out the picnic blankets in the grass while the grownups get everything ready!" Gloria announced from the back porch steps. "Now, let's gather around and take hands. Healthia, would you like to bless the food this morning?" In a moment everyone from the oldest to the youngest obediently encircled the yard, bowed their heads, and clasped one another's hands before the nurse offered up the prayer for their lunch. Though some of the children were unable to grasp the reasoning behind this activity, they accepted it as something that was normally done. Happy and Precocia found such a practice a bit odd; however, they were guests at this nice couple's home and had to respect their ways as Gus and Laurie had raised them to do.

"Dear Heavenly Father, we love You and speak a blessing over the food we are about to eat. Please grant blessings to every hand that has prepared it; please cause every bite to nourish us; and please cause our hearts to be truly grateful for such a bounty You have generously placed before us. Thank you for an afternoon of fun and fellowship to be shared by all of us. In Your precious name we pray, Amen." Healthia conveyed the assembly's gratitude and firmly squeezed the hands of both people standing around her upon the utterance of her Amen, a gesture and vocalization repeated by the rest in the ring.

While the men toted large thermoses of tea, lemonade, punch, and ice water outside and set them on the empty bench in the shed so the sun wouldn't melt the ice and heat up the drinks, the ladies prepared the buffet line so everyone could file through the kitchen and serve themselves.

"I still don't understand … you would think I'd seen it coming. I … I thought he was simply coming out of a grumpy funk," Laurie continued to express her feelings of absolute astonishment as she carefully set out a plate full of stuffed eggs.

"Believe me, Laurie, Gloria and I know what it is to have our husbands' conversion to Christianity suddenly dropped into our laps," Healthia assured her friend, sliding the birthday cake Precocia had spied into the oven so the children wouldn't descend upon it prematurely. "When Jubilus and Elliquus came home from a men's hiking trip in Israel twenty years ago and announced that they became Christians, we thought they were absolutely bonkers; after all, Elliquus was still considered part of the Roman Army since he had a desk job at the local recruiting office and had a wife and six month old baby boy at home. Back then, if you were connected with the military, confession of Christianity could have gotten you martyred on the spot. Jubilus was self employed, running a coffee shop down by the forum, and profits dropped when word got out he was a Christian. By then our girls were of school age, so I worked as a nurse to help make up for the money we lost at the coffee shop. Gloria and I were ready to send those two chuckleheads to every therapist in Rome, but they kept insisting becoming Christians would most certainly change our lives for the better."

"We didn't believe them at the time when they said that," Gloria continued the story of the natural brothers becoming brothers in Christ. "There were times we wanted to absolutely crown them. Elliquus grew bored of his job and suddenly decided it was time to take a new direction, so he sought a teaching degree and quit the recruiting center upon his graduation. Little did I know he was intent on teaching courses on Judeo-Christian prospective. Because of the controversial nature of the content he was teaching, the courses had to be done entirely by correspondence, and he had to work from home. When he noticed some of his students lived right here in Rome, he waited for them to graduate from their own courses and ultimately began this group we have now. Some of those students have since moved away or passed away, and we've brought in more. Some of his students have even gone on to start home groups of their own. Believe me, it was such a major adjustment for all of us when Elliquus made such a radical change. we had to take a large wage cut compared to what he made at the recruiting office and go on a health care plan that wasn't nearly as good as the Army had to offer when he became a professional teacher, and I was so mad at him for ages. Then it hit both Healthia and me; whatever this Christianity was, it made our husbands happier than they had ever been. We started asking questions and grew more curious by the day. Before we knew it, we wanted what they had and eventually became Christians too, and we wouldn't have it any other way."

"It took me a while to see Jubilus was a changed man too. Oh for the longest time, he was a heavy smoker and workaholic. I wouldn't let him puff those cancer sticks in the house, so he often went onto the front stoop. Those front windows used to be so gray I thought it was about to rain when it was sunny out. I lost count of the nights he put in overtime at the shop, and I constantly worried the girls would see him as a stranger because of how often he was not home. I bugged him for years to quit smoking and cut back his hours, but it took Christianity to make him realize he smoked and worked himself to a frazzle because he longed for a purpose in life and felt a void in his heart, and the cigarettes or long hours wouldn't fill it. He, through God, realized if he wanted to know what he was doing on this planet, he would need to put out the butts, come home evenings, and turn to God to find out that purpose he's searching for. He's healthier now except for high cholesterol; he's not as grumpy; he's more relaxed than I had ever seen him. We even had more nights around the dinner table as a whole family. Yes, I had to go to work and leave the girls with Elliquus and Gloria until my shift was over, but seeing the positive change over Jubilus was worth it in the end. I know you are full of questions about what this will mean for you, Gus, and the children, and I won't lie to you; there will be times you will want to clobber him with a frying pan! But I am telling you, once you make it through the adjustment period; you will find yourself married to a man who is far happier and healthier than he had ever been before he found God. You may now have a changed husband whose behavior will take some getting used to, but remember, every one of the wives in our group has been there and will walk with you through this. You can call any of us day or night; if someone isn't home, someone else will be. No matter how weird things will seem to get, you are not alone, sweetie."

"Oh, you have no idea how much this means to me, Healthia," Laurie sighed with relief before turning her attention to a platter of homemade meatballs that needed to be basted in barbecue sauce and laid out on the kitchen table, where they would await the hungry mouths that would devour them. When both women's hands were free, they warmly embraced before returning to work on setting up the buffet.

Before long, everyone was sitting comfortably on the blankets, save Erudus who perched at a round wooden picnic table because he found it difficult to sit on the ground for extended periods of time, Annia and Neddia keeping him company. Because of their nonstop appetites and propensity to beg over everyone's shoulder, Brutus and Caesar were banned from the yard while the humans ate. Slinking with their heads hung low they ambled to their own bowls in the driveway before someone locked the gate after them, erecting a barrier between them and the human fare they thought was far more appetizing than the run of the mill pet food for which they had to settle. All of the people from the oldest to the youngest were partaking of the wonderful homemade bounty and talking about everything from what went on in their lives during the week right through the birth announcement that had all the adults abuzz. Most of the children prattled excitedly about whatever occupied their minds, one subject being the mysterious absence of dessert in the buffet line; after all this tradition was not due until next week when the big birthday cake would be brought out. Of course every youth who wasn't in the living room when the big news of Gus's salvation was broken soon received the solution to this minor mystery!

"I'm sure many of you children and those adults with a sweet tooth have been wondering why there was no dessert table set up this time around!" Elliquus announced from the back porch, ready to open the door for Gloria, whose hands would undoubtedly be full. "We don't often celebrate birthdays at the end of the month, but this one is a very special occasion. Some of you know that Saturday, Happius Holiday will be celebrating his eighteenth birthday, and he will be cutting the cake for our Iunius babies next week; but today, we honor another member of the Holiday household. Gus, will you come up here please?" As the babe in Christ rose and made his way to the porch, Elliquus opened the door, allowing Gloria to step through with the large marble cake in hand! "As the grown-ups already know, Last Wednesday night, Gus Holiday gave his heart to Jesus and is now a child of God! Today, we celebrate gaining a brand new addition to the Christian family!""

Thunderous applause erupted from the adults who were pleased to hear the news for a second time while the children, save Hap and Precocia, made joyful noises because they knew this most certainly meant there would be a party! The siblings stared wide eyed at one another, their jaws dropped open and their minds scarcely able to grasp the news that brought them into stunned silence! It took every ounce of their strength to tear their eyes from one another and focus them onto their father, who had scaled the steps and approached the cake that sported some glowing baby blue birthday candles. Suddenly, the entire assembly broke into song, clapping in rhythm:

"A happy birthday to you, a happy birthday to you,

May you feel Jesus near every day of the year,

A happy birthday to you, a happy birthday to you,

And may it be the best year you've ever had!"

More crashes of raucous applause filled the yard as the song reached completion and Gus blew out the candles. He then sunk the knife into the decadent pastry, making the first cut! As Gloria and Elliquus sliced the cake and set it onto paper plates, Erudus called out, "Speech speech!"!

"Friends, Romans, family, I know some of you must be on cloud nine upon hearing the news while others, undoubtedly like my wife and children, sit on those blankets utterly shocked. Someday, I will feel ready to go into more detail as to what brought me to this decision, but right now, all I can tell you is I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was the right thing for me to do."

Another crash of applause filled the yard, and Elliquus handed the guest of honor two plates of cake while following him with two more back to the blanket on which Laurie and the children sat, mother draping her arms around each offspring's shoulders. The group leader passed his dessert plates to Happy and Precocia while Gus handed one of his to Laurie. The siblings rendered their thanks, their polite voices not reflecting one vestige of the numbness they felt inside. Their peers' suspicions confirmed, they had no idea if this was the result of a spell as Hap's teacher had thought, or if it was as precocia's classmates believed – that the Christians subtly worked to sell Gus on Christianity. They had no idea their late grandfather was the one to cause their father to take the final step over the line and enter this strange sect.

"Now that you're a Christian, Pop, what's that mean for all of us … I mean, uh … do we have to do things differently like they do over here, only at home? Does Mom have to start fixing you special food?" Happius awkwardly posed his query after he polished off his cake.

"Now, listen everybody, I'm still the same ole Gus Holiday I was before, only, I had a void in my life, one only God could fill. I don't have any dietary restrictions; I can still bowl or play golf; and my love for you hasn't changed one bit. God is my new dad and best friend all rolled into one, and He'll help me take better care of all of you. Take today for example, we'd still be figuring out where we're going to stay if we never came here and found out Annia and Neddia needed house sitters. If I still avoided crossing paths with Christians like I did before the windstorm and hadn't wanted to learn more about God, would I have brought us back after the first visit? You have to admit, Laurie, I'm a much nicer guy now than I was as that dead burned out shell of a man you saw heading for the bowling alley before that storm kicked up."

Her own words tossed back into her lap, Laurie realized there was no denying the benefits her significant other had received upon gaining new friends and the spike in his elation since Wednesday. Fully cognizant that Gus was possessed of a stubborn streak and a tendency to hold onto all he loved with a vice like grip, she knew she would have to hunker down and weather the winds of change and help her children do likewise. One thought did nibble at her mind as she ingested a forkful of her dessert; was Christianity as dangerous and controversial as it had been when Elliquus and Jubilus had converted? Would Gus be endangering himself and the entire family with these new and difficult to accept beliefs? One thing was for sure; there was no turning back. Because of Gus's decision, life would never be the same again from this point on.


End file.
